


A Skeleton's Connection (Sans/Male Reader)

by ComicalFont



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Crushes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Includes Art, M/M, Metallica References, More fluff than angst, Mystery Flavors, Open for Comments, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Protag - Freeform, Reader is male, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2020-10-24 21:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 144,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicalFont/pseuds/ComicalFont
Summary: As a human that's recently moved to the Underground, you've had a lot on your plate. The scenery's amazing, and you couldn't ask for a more thoughtful society to be in, but only a simple job's landed so far, and there aren't any close friends around yet. With all that going on, there's a lot for you to get used to... until, that is, you choose a comedy show over noodles one fateful night. On that night, you meet a dorky set of bones that just so happens to change everything.Features artwork throughout the story by Tumblr artist lennyClover! Check out more of their fantastic work here! https://merrylenny01.tumblr.com/





	1. The First Show

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, I wanted to try something a little different this story, given how much this genre means to me, and the lack of content it has. I hope you have a really nice time with it! (Your name goes wherever it says Protag.)

**A Skeleton's Connection (Sans/Male Reader) by ComicalFont**

**Chapter 1 - The First Show**

It’s a late evening, as you take a glance outside your apartment window in New Home. The sun isn’t setting, as it would on the surface, but you can tell it’s getting later with all the families and friends walking across the street. Another glance, this time at your clock, lets you know it’s almost 7:30.

Living in your own apartment, let alone one in the Underground, was certainly something that'd take some getting used to. None of that means you aren't glad about it, though. It had been five years since the Barrier, the magical power that kept the surface and Underground separated, was destroyed. Rather than leave the Underground behind, though, some monsters felt more comfortable staying, and even some humans decided to give life in it a try. The two groups, once separated by war, were now coexisting in peace. It had actually grown more relaxed down here than on the surface, so you gave the new lifestyle a shot.

That's enough reminiscing for tonight, though. It’s getting late, you realize, and you want to figure out what to do before having to sleep for work the next day. You could make more instant noodles, watch a show or two on Mettaton TV, and go to bed, but you’d done that all week already. Tonight, you decide, is gonna be the night you go out.

Not having anyone to go with, you make your way out of the apartment and end up in the crowds of monsters and humans out on the sidewalks. The monster in front of you is at _least_ ten feet tall, so you can’t see what’s in front of you, but you’ve made the walk enough times to know where to go.

Unlike the surface, where there’s restaurants everywhere, the Underground doesn’t have many places to go out to. People usually cook at home and get together there. Underground cooking’s a little… different, though, as you found out that one time you burned a meatloaf in only two minutes. Rather than trying that again, you chose to go to the restaurant at MTT Hotel whenever you’re in the mood for a nicer meal. Entering the hotel and opening the large glass doors on the left to the restaurant, you notice a small, empty table by the stage, and sit down there. Fortunately, after enough complaints, no one has to reserve their forks anymore.

The menu’s not that big, but it always hits the spot. You order an appetizer to start, and then sit back on your seat and look around. It’s more crowded than usual tonight; there must be an event going on. You check the event schedule at your table and find today’s entertainment: “puns and comedy from some dork tonight at 8:30. i’ll maybe see you there.”

It’s all lowercase and written in comic sans. You start wondering if the manager’s kid got ahold of the schedule, but then your appetizer arrives, and you dig in. After a few bites, a tall skeleton wearing what looks like a Halloween costume (it’s only August…) goes on stage.

“GREETINGS, HUMANS AND MONSTERS. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HONORED TO INTRODUCE YOUR COMEDIAN TONIGHT!” He talks loudly, with a proud grin on his face.

“YOU ALL KNOW AND MAYBE LOVE HIM, SO I WON’T TAKE ANY MORE OF YOUR TIME. PLEASE WELCOME MY OLDER BROTHER, SANS!” There’s loud applause as a shorter skeleton wearing a hoodie takes the stage. The crowd’s happy to see him, apparently knowing his act already. You feel like you’ve heard his name in stories about the human that freed the Underground, but nothing more than that. He pulls the microphone down to meet his height, and clears his throat.

“heya. thanks for coming out tonight. sorry i’m late, had to help someone that got banged up.” You and the crowd feel bad for whoever it was.

“yeah, i saw ‘em come down hard on their leg. looked pretty bad, so i helped ‘em get up and said, ‘sorry you hurt yourself, i’d really hate ti-bi-ya right now.”

Holy crap, you think, this guy’s a natural. The whole audience goes from being worried to dying of laughter in seconds.

Through the show, you begin to learn more about the skeleton’s background- or, as he put it, “back-ground.” He talks a bit about his childhood, like when he first learned an instrument.

“so i sat down for my first lesson, and my teacher hands me the trombone and gives this whole speech about the instrument’s history. it was pretty boring, but he sure knew his stuff. after a few minutes, he wanted to know how i felt, so i looked him square in the eye socket and said, ‘don’t worry. i’ll prove to you i’ll be bad to the _bone_ playing this thing.” It’s a cliché, but the delivery’s so perfect that it completely lands.

Eventually, he gets to talking about meeting the human that freed the Underground; you remember their name being Frisk. Seems like he’s told the crowd a lot about them already, so he tells something new.

“the kid makes it to hotland, where I’ve got my hot dog stand set up. they look pretty hungry, so I offer them some 'dogs for 30g. woulda given them away, but i’ve got a business to keep going. that still counts for kids in overalls.” Some more scattered laughter.

“i reach to give ‘em it, but i see that all their pockets are full, so i put it the only other place i could: on their head. yeah, right on top of their head, and they didn’t even move a muscle. next thing ya know, there’s twenty-nine on their head, and i have to be ‘frank’ with ‘em and tell them that’s all i can give.” You start wondering how this guy got so good, or if he taught himself.

He closes the show by talking about humans living near him now, and how he hasn’t let that change him.

“oh, most of them have been nice enough. they talk to me like they would to anyone else. only thing they don’t seem to get is me having a hoodie on every day. it’s weird they don’t have twenty of the same hoodie to wear whenever.” The crowd laughs again, and you swear the skeleton looks at your table and gives you a nod of approval for a moment. You realize you’re the only human in the crowd wearing a hoodie, too.

“eh, they’ll learn someday. i might be lazy, but i keep my clothes clean… *cough* unlike my bro, who’s been waiting for halloween since july. i dunno if the candy's gonna stay sweet all that long.” The taller skeleton, who you figure is named Papyrus from his self-introduction, seems to object for a moment, but realizes his brother’s right and laughs along. He gets up on stage.

“THAT’S ALL FOR TONIGHT. GIVE A LONG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR MY BROTHER, SANS!” He gets a standing ovation, and you join in, knowing going out tonight was absolutely worth it. Being humble, he just gives a little shrug like it was nothing, and leaves the stage. A lot of the crowd starts leaving, now that it’s late, but you decide to go see the comedian first and thank him for the show. You find him sitting down at another table, talking to his brother.

“no hard feelings about that last part, right, bro? i gotta work with whatever comes to mind.”

“PFFT! IT’S NOTHING, BROTHER. EVERYONE LAUGHS ALONGSIDE ME; NO ONE WOULD SLANDER SOMEONE WITH SUCH CREDENTIALS AS I! ALSO, IT LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE A GUEST.” You shuffle towards Sans, feeling a little nervous, but not sure why.

“Um… I just wanted to say thanks for your performance up there. I haven’t gotten to laugh that hard in a long, long time.”

“heh, no problemo. makes me happy seeing people like my dumb jokes.” He reaches out his boney hand, and you reach yours out to shake it.

Pflflflfflflrt. A whoopee cushion goes off.

“…How’d you do that?”

“huh? you don’t carry a whoopee cushion in your hoodie pocket, too? that’s what it’s made for.” He winks, and you’re certain he’s already the funniest guy you’ve ever met.

“hey, i’ve got another show in snowdin tomorrow, if you wanna come. the locals would like a human’s company, anyway.” You gladly accept, and thank him again as you turn to leave the restaurant… only to step on another whoopee cushion.

“oh yeah, watch out. some weirdo’s put whoopee cushions around the hotel like they’re land mines.” There's no rhyme or reason _another _one should be on the ground, but that seems to be the first rule to getting used to the Underground: things being explained with nothing but 'magic'. With that, Sans and Papyrus go to the front desk to get their pay, and you start to make your way back to your apartment. You’ve got an early shift tomorrow, and probably a lot of customers to put up with, but the humor from the night was enough for a strong boost of confidence. The night of sleep proves to be a relaxing one.


	2. Night at the Pub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the show at the MTT Hotel, you're eager to see Sans' next show, this time in Snowdin. You've got a work shift to take care of first, but you're sure the only things you'll be thinking about are him and what he's gonna think up next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that your name goes wherever ‘Protag’ is!

**Chapter 2 - Night at the Pub**

The alarm wakes you for your Friday morning shift, as per usual. After pulling yourself out of bed, you brush your teeth, comb your hair, throw your uniform on, and get moving. The Underground’s been offering brand new openings for your dream job, but until you can get all the qualifications you need, you’re stuck in retail work. It’s all for the best, you tell yourself, since it’ll make you look like a hard worker on your resume.

You swing by the local Starbucks to grab a drink before your shift. When humans started moving down to the Underground, some of them brought their shops with them, and it was the one thing that some monsters strongly went against. Eventually, though, monsters started working for the companies, and got some of their own ideas mixed into the menu. The Mettaton Hotel actually franchised the place in New Home, which is why you ordered a mocha Starfait to start your morning.

As the caffeine starts to sink in, your mind wakes up more and thinks about the show from last night. You’ve got no doubt it was the best comedy you’d ever seen; that skeleton with the hoodie was perfect. He made it all seem so natural, like he was just talking to someone about his day. Along with that, he was kind enough to invite you to his next show, where you were sure he’d have another fresh set of jokes to tell.

Before that, though, you have this shift to go through. Today’s a surprisingly quiet day in the aisles, so your manager tells you to move heavy stuff in the back. That’s fine with you, since you get the chance to use your earbuds while you work, and can freely think about stuff without getting distracted by customers. You and the other humans and monsters in the back get to work; it surprises you how some of the ones that’re working are only a couple feet tall, but they somehow manage.

The shift goes by without anything unusual, as you get more excited for the next show. You haven’t actually been to Snowdin yet, so you’re eager to get to see a new town. At long last, the clock hits 4, and you’re allowed to clock out for the day.

“See you on Monday!” You’ve been a fairly reliable employee, but some of the others have been arriving pretty late on Monday (and looking like they’ll fall asleep any moment), so the managers have to remind everyone to come back on time. You take your name tag off and then head back to your apartment to get ready to head to the snowy village.

“I should probably bring a jacket, it’s gonna be pretty cold," you tell yourself as you put your next outfit on. Sans would likely appreciate another hoodie, so you throw a warm one on and get ready to head out. If this place serves food too, there’s no point making dinner now, so you get moving as soon as your outfit’s ready.

You’ve heard about a boat that takes people across the Underground for free, so rather than taking an hours-long hike, you just go to Hotland to find it. It gets painfully hot there with the outfit that’s meant for the cold, but you remind yourself it’ll be worth it.

“Hello. I am the Riverman. Or am I the Riverwoman? It doesn’t really matter… I love riding on my boat. Would you care to join me?” It seems odd to you that the ‘boat’ is shaped like a dog, but you agree to anyway and hop on. They take off, and the dog boat starts quickly running along the river.

“Comedy… is it derived from humor, or fear?” You’re stunned… they somehow know you’re going to a comedy show, and you haven’t said a word. Is Sans popular enough that people take the boat to see him all the time? Either way, the Riverperson doesn’t say anything else, and keeps going. Pretty soon, you arrive in Snowdin.

“Here we are. Come back soon… or not. Tra la la.” With that, they let you off, and the boat takes off again. You figure it’s best to not ask questions, and head south to the town.

You immediately realize it was smart of you to bring a hoodie; it’s just as cold in Snowdin as it is in winter on the surface, if not colder. Most of the people living here seem to have fur, which explains why it’s no problem for them.

It’s easy to tell it’s a peaceful little town, with the quaint little houses and shops it has. Lots of people seem to be out and about, chatting about their week, even with the cold. There’s a tree in the center of town that people leave gifts under, as surprises for other townsfolk, and the generosity makes you feel a little warmer. You start wondering how the skeletons don’t freeze to death out here, but you assure yourself if it was a problem, they would’ve moved a while ago.

Regardless, it’s starting to get late, so you try to find where Sans is performing. You see a little “live comedy” sign outside of a place called Grillby’s, so you go there. It’s near some place called the ‘Librarby’, but that’s something to ask about another day.

You’re glad you got to Grillby’s when you did, because it’s nearly full. The locals must really like Sans’ work, since they all seem to be in a good mood. They all look towards you out of curiosity, so he must’ve been right about them not seeing humans often, likely due to the cold.

“OH! THE HUMAN’S ARRIVED!” You glance towards the jukebox and see that Papyrus, the taller skeleton from last night, saved you a seat near the impromptu stage that was set up near the bar. You gladly sit down there, relieved you made it on time.

“I DON’T THINK WE’VE FORMALLY MET. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HONORARY MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD AND SPAGHETTI MASTER CHEF!” You’ve heard about the Underground’s Royal Guard and that it was shut down when the barrier broke, but Papyrus was given the title for his determination to join the ranks.

“Pleased to meet you. You did a real nice job introducing your brother last night, you must care about each other a lot.”

“OF COURSE I DO! WE MIGHT NOT AGREE ALL THE TIME ABOUT HIS HABITS OR HOT DOGS, BUT HE’S STILL MY BROTHER, AND HE’S HELPED MAKE ME WHO I AM TODAY.”

Hot dogs? You’re about to ask what that’s about, but the front door opens, and Sans enters the bar.

“Hey, Sans!”

“How’re ya doing today, Sans?”

“Hi, Sansy~”

“Yo, Sans!”

Sounds like everyone knows him well.

“heya. sorry it took a while for me to get here, took a while for me to pick out what to wear.” It’s the same outfit he wore last night. Everyone laughs, and someone plays a ba-dum-tsshh sound. He gets up on the little stage, clears his throat, and starts his show.

“glad to see ya all here tonight, and especially the families. i think school’s starting for the kids soon. excited?” He does another wink, and there’s a mix of groans and laughs from the kids in the audience.

“heh, tough crowd. might be hard to make good jokes tonight. guess i’m not feeling very humerus.” More kids crack up. “i get it, though, some of those classes were pretty tough when i was your age. i’d tell ya about my physics class, but i don’t think you’d get the gravity of how hard it was.” A classic. All the kids laugh, and you find yourself laughing, too.

He flies through the show, without repeating a single joke from last night. You don’t think about your work day or the work coming up next week at all; at the moment, the show’s all that matters. Before you know it, he’s wrapped up another performance, and he gets another standing ovation. The guy made of fire behind the bar, who you assume is Grillby, claps too while giving a modest expression, apparently pleased someone this funny comes to his place.

“oh hey, you made it. thanks a bunch for making the trip.” Sans comes to your table first and offers his hand again, and after checking for whoopee cushions this time, you shake it.

“now, why do ya have to spy on my hands? i’m trustworthy, aren’t i?” He winks again, seemingly showing respect for your memory.

“so, do ya like snowdin?”

“Oh yeah, for sure! The cold weather’s real nice, and the people seem real friendly.”

“yeah, it’s a cool community out here. heh, they like my humor, so that’s good enough for me.”

“Been liking it down here more than the surface. Everyone’s less, like, hostile.”

“yeah, that’s why we came back down. glad the people that wanted to get out did, but it’s all too structured up there. not enough going with the flow.” He feels the exact same you did about it.

“Mhm, too much arguing and bitterness. I just hope everyone’s cool with humans like me finding a place to live, after all that history.”

“no one’s got hard feelings, buddy. you’re welcome down here.”

“ABSOLUTELY, HUMAN! SURFACE COOKING’S GOT NOTHING COMPARED TO THE UNDERGROUND.”

“bro, you refused to try any pasta there.”

“EXACTLY! PERFECTION CAN’T BE BEAT, SO WHY BOTHER WITH IT? YOU SHOULD TRY SOME UNDERGROUND PASTA SOMETIME… WAIT, HOW IMPOLITE OF ME. WHAT’S YOUR NAME, HUMAN?”

“Protag. Pleased I’ve gotten to meet you and your brother. I should probably start heading back now, though, so it doesn’t get too cold.”

“alrighty. thanks for coming, nice seeing humans without it being part of my job.” You share a smile and head to the back to open the door… only to be blown back by the winds. Looks like a blizzard started up.

“…Well, crap. Even the boat person’s gotta be smart enough to not be out in this cold.” You try to step outside, but some snow hits your eyes and you have to go back in.

“woah, protag, you can’t go out in that. unlike us, you’ve got actual meat on your bones that could freeze.” That answers your question from earlier, but now it’s not what’s on your mind.

“I’ve gotta get home, though. There’s nowhere I can stay.” Sans and his brother look at each other and seem to agree on something quickly.

“stay at our place for the night, protag. i don’t want ya freezing to death on our watch.”

“But that’s your home, I don’t want to intrude.”

“NONSENSE! HAVING A HUMAN STAY OVER WILL BE AN EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCE, ANYWAY!”

“we’ll set up the couch for ya, if that’s cool. just watch out for any more whoopee cushion land mines, they’re great for pranks.” You’re truly grateful these skeletons are letting you stay; it’d be dangerous to go home in a storm like this. Sans tells Grillby to use his pay for the night to cover his tab, which makes you wonder how big it could be for that to be possible, but you digress. The three of you open the door and cautiously step outside, as you follow the brothers to their home. As bad as the storm is, part of you is looking forward to trying something new.


	3. Home of Brick and Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The freezing cold blizzard is too much for you to get home safely, so Sans and Papyrus invite you to stay over at their place. You feel a little bad about the whole thing, but their generosity's greatly appreciated, as you take the chance to get to know each other better.

**Chapter 3 – Home of Brick and Bone**

The snow’s coming down so hard that you have to squint to see the skeletons in front of you. If they weren’t wearing dark clothes, you’re sure you would’ve gotten lost as soon as you stepped outside. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, and after a short walk down the street, you step onto Sans and Papyrus’s porch.

“I really c-can’t thank you two enough f-for this.” Your mouth’s grown too shaky from the wind to speak clearly.

“eh, don’t sweat it. you can’t sweat in this cold, anyway, but still.” He pulls a key out of his hoodie pocket and clicks the door open.

“welcome to the bone zone, buddy.” You try not to fall over from a combination of giggles and the cold as you step into the house.

There’s nothing too special around, but it looks like a perfectly suitable home; there’s a living area near the front door, a little hall that leads to a kitchen, and what looks like two bedrooms upstairs. A cautiously-made painting of a bone hangs between the bedrooms, and the oddest thing around is a plate on a table with a rock and some sprinkles.

“make sure you say hi to rocko. paps didn’t trust having a dog in the house, so we’ve got him instead.”

“SANS! DON’T MAKE PROTAG THINK I DON’T LIKE ANIMALS! DOGS CAN BE VERY ADORABLE, YES, BUT I CAN’T RISK MY COOKING AND VALUABLES BEING STOLEN.”

“oh, yeah, good point. i haven’t forgotten that action figure a dog got that we spent hours chasing.”

“UGH, DON’T REMIND ME. WE BOTH JUST ABOUT PASSED OUT FROM ALL THAT RUNNING WE HAD TO DO.”

“heh, you’re right. anyhoo, make yourself at home, protag. i’ll go get some stuff for the couch.” You notice an extra hoodie wedged between the cushions, and are about to reach in and pull it out for courtesy.

“woah, i wouldn’t touch that if i were you. if that hoodie comes out at the wrong time, you’re gonna open pandora’s box.”

"YES. SOMETHING WE COMPLETELY AGREE ON. PROTAG, PLEASE LISTEN TO MY BROTHER, IT’LL BE EVEN MESSIER INSIDE THE HOUSE THAN OUTSIDE IF THAT GETS PULLED." (<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcB-N60dB9E>) You’re confused about what they mean, but you want to be a polite guest, so you leave the hoodie where it is.

“oh yeah, help yourself to some ice cream from the freezer. helps me keep my eyesockets shut when I’m sleeping.” You thank him for the offer and head over to the kitchen. Part of you is expecting flavors that the surface would never have, but it actually looks the same: chocolate, vanilla, and mint-chip. Wanting something simple, you pull out vanilla, and Papyrus notices and gets a bowl and spoon for you.

“Are all the monsters down here this generous?”

“MAYBE, MAYBE NOT. I’M JUST TRYING TO USE THE PROPER MANNERS OF A ROYAL GUARDSMAN! NYEH HEH HEH!” Even with it disbanding, you can see how proud the taller skeleton is of the title.

“Have you ever wanted to try comedy too, like your bro does?”

“OH, NOT ME, I CAN’T IMPROV LIKE HE DOES. I HAVE TO PLAN MY JOKES OUT AHEAD OF TIME, BUT HE CAN FIND SOMETHING FUNNY OUT OF ANYTHING.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. If I’m not careful, I could hit with another one of his whoopee mines.” After that, you hear a wah-wah-wah-wah come from upstairs, followed by a door shutting quickly. You can tell by ear what instrument it is.

“Wow, he plays trombone, too?”

“MOSTLY JUST TO PLAY THOSE FEW NOTES. I SWEAR WHENEVER I SLIP OR SOMETHING GETS IN THE HOUSE, THE TROMBONE’S RIGHT THERE FOR HIM TO PLAY. HE’S WORKING ON LEARNING SOME SONGS, THOUGH, AND IT’S BEEN A BIT OF A BAD TIME FOR HIM, BUT I’M SURE HE’LL GET IT.”

“Huh, interesting. I’d like to hear them when it’s done, if he wants to share.” You suddenly realize how good the ice cream is; it’s got a perfect creamy texture without falling apart easily. Just then, you hear Sans coming down the stairs, presumably with the sheets.

“eh, i’ll have some of that ‘nilla too.”

“SANS, YOU JUST HAD SOME BEFORE THE SHOW.”

“yeah, and i had to use up all my sugars for the show. gotta replenish myself.” He gets another spoon and bowl and sits down hard at the table. Before he can start talking, though, you remember something.

“Oh crap, your mail!” You hurry out the front door and jog to his mailbox; it hit you that you remembered seeing the house earlier on your way to Grillby’s, which you now realize is the skeletons' place, and there was a mailbox stuffed with what seemed like bills. You grab all of them, along with the letter in Papyrus’s mailbox, and run back inside, face slightly twitching from the cold.

“S-sorry to cut you off, Sans. Remembered these w-were outside, and I didn’t want your stuff getting destroyed-d-d.”

“oh shoot, thanks, protag. buns incorporated would’ve really been after my buns if i never paid those.” You leave them on the table with Rocko, after Sans insists the pet rock won’t eat the papers. The older skeleton makes a deep sigh.

“i know i’m not always the fastest, but that was pretty dumb of me. guess it was fate you came by.”

“Pfft, maybe. I just wanna do what I can to lend a hand.” You’ve admittedly been curious about how Sans eats, since his jaw never seems to move, and when he puts the ice cream towards its mouth, it sort of seeps through his teeth. It’s not until his spoon’s empty that you feel a little embarrassed for watching.

“what? is the sight of me eating that enticing?” He winks to show there’s no rude intent.

The two of you go off for a while on his comedy, the people in the town, and his other jobs. You thought to bring up what Papyrus said about hot dogs the other night, and he told you about his stand in Hotland.

“the people that work out there get really hungry moving around in the heat, so I set up a place for them to get a bite. it’s a nice second job if I ever need some more change.”

“do people like them?”

“well, i used to use something I like to call ‘water sausages’ for them, but the health department nearly shut me down. it’s a shame, no one else makes them like i used to.”

He goes on about his hot dog shop, as well as his old job as a sentry.

“i guess I was never that good of a sentry, i never really wanted to capture anyone. it was good pay, though, and i got to nap a lot.”

“SANS! WHY DID YOU NEVER TAKE YOUR JOB MORE SERIOUSLY?? GOOD THING NO OTHER HUMANS CAME, OR A RUDE ONE COULD’VE PASSED BY AND GOTTEN TO ASGORE.” The two brothers jibber for a while about their old sentry jobs and Sans’s apparent lack of attention, and you can’t help but smile a bit. They can take digs at each other, but none of it’s personal. Eventually, it gets pretty late, and the three of you realize you should get some shut-eye.

“Here, I’ll wash out all the bowls. Least I can do.” You scoop them all up and bring them over to the sink… only to realize it’s fifteen feet up off the ground.

“OH, I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT, HUMAN. I DON’T WANT YOU FALLING FROM DOWN THERE.” Papyrus takes the bowls and spoons from you and gets a ladder, climbing it effortlessly to reach the sink.

“I don’t mean this in a rude way at all, cause it’s your house, but… why’s the sink so high?”

“it’s where paps keeps his bone collection. i’ll show you tomorrow, it could spill if i open the cabinet while he’s using the sink, and i’d never hear the end of it.” You start wondering if skeletons owning a bone collection would be like a person having an extra limb in their house, but you figure it’s best to not think about it much. Since sleeping at Sans and Papyrus’s place came so suddenly, you didn’t bring a change of clothes to sleep in, so you head over to the couch dressed the way you are already. Sans did a nice job getting the sheets ready; you don’t know how he keeps his own room, but he must treat his guests well.

“Thanks again for letting me stay here. I’d be a skeleton, too, if I got stuck out there for long.” You can still here the harsh winds whistling from the other side of the door.

“heh, it’s nothing, dude. we’ve got a perfect record for keeping humans alive, can’t let that end now.” He winks again and his smile perks up.

“and i really do appreciate your politeness. people laugh at my jokes and stuff, but they don’t thank me after that often. it really made my last two shows.” Papyrus heads up the stairs to his room, which is covered in caution tape and a stop sign. You assume it’s just for laughs, since he’s been nothing but approachable.

“GOOD NIGHT, PROTAG! I HOPE YOUR DREAMS ARE WARMER THAN THE COLD OUTSIDE. SANS, COULD YOU READ THE STORY NOW?”

“yep, i’ll be right up there, bro.” Papyrus waves good night a final time and happily shuts the door.

“yeah, he’s got a bedtime story he never really stopped asking me to read. it’s a good story, though, so why should i say no?” He gives you a little pat on the shoulder, where you notice his hand’s pretty cold, and heads up the steps.

“see ya tomorrow, protag. oh, make sure that hoodie under the sheets doesn’t come loose, unless you want to be suffocated.”

“Um… sure, I’ll keep that in mind. Have a nice rest, Sans.” For a moment, you think you hear a slight sigh from him after you say that, but it’s immediately followed by him telling his brother he’s coming to read the story, shutting off the hall light, and entering Papyrus's room. You assume you’re just overthinking things, as you pull the sheet over you and try to start sleeping. The couch is fairly old, but it proves to be soft as you drift off fairly quickly.

Your dreams that night are fairly simple, from what you can remember. Some of Sans’s jokes pop up in them often, so they must be sticking in your memory. Even in your dreams, you appreciate getting to know him, and can honestly consider him a friend now-

The dream’s suddenly interrupted from what sounds like a panicked shout. You wake up and frantically look all around the room, trying to see who’s there. The door’s still locked, and it doesn’t look like anyone came in, but all you can hear now is the sound of your own heavy breathing. Looking up the stairs, you see that both Sans and Papyrus’s rooms are still shut with the lights off.

“…Maybe I’m just imagining things…” There’s no other noise coming from the house, and you start to think something creepy happened in your mind that woke you up. It’s happened before, just not in a while, so you figure it’s not a far-fetched thought. Trying to mentally put it aside, you rest your head on the pillow, perfectly sure nothing strange happened.

…Okay, mostly sure. After the bit of concern slowly slips away, you fall asleep again.


	4. Bed and Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus let you stay for the night to avoid the blistering cold storm. Over night, however, you heard a chilling shout that's kept you thinking. You tried to sleep it off, but in the morning you decide to be a good friend to the skeletons and ask them about it.

**Chapter 4 – Bed and Breakfast**

There’s no sunlight in the Underground, so you don’t have any bright light to get woken up by. When you finally do open your eyes, you squint at the clock in the kitchen and realize it’s already ten in the morning.

“Crap, I don’t wanna seem like a bum in front of them…” You pull yourself off the couch and rub your eyes. Aside from whatever that interruption was last night, your sleep was fairly relaxed. Out of curiosity, you look under the sheets, and that hoodie is fortunately still in its place. As soon as you pull the sheet back up, you hear an alarm come from Papyrus’s room, and soon after, he happily comes out, not looking drowsy at all.

“GOOD MORNING, PROTAG! I HOPE THE COUCH WAS SUITABLE.”

“Yeah, I had no trouble with it at all. Looks like you had a nice sleep, despite whatever that noise was.”

“NOISE? YOU HEARD A NOISE LAST NIGHT?”

“Yeah, you didn’t hear it too?”

“HMM… NOT THAT I CAN RECALL. I AM A FAIRLY HEAVY SLEEPER AFTER MY BEDTIME STORY, THOUGH. SPEAKING OF WHICH, I BETTER GO WAKE MY BROTHER UP SO HE DOESN’T SLEEP THE DAY AWAY.” He heads across the hall to Sans’s room, and as he turns the light on, a strange fiery light emits from under the door. You tell yourself to ask about it later.

“SANS! GET UP! I’M SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO IGNORE OUR GUEST.”

“…hrmph… yeah, i’ll roll my skull out of bed soon…” Papyrus shuts the door to give him his privacy, and your mind briefly wonders if he does or doesn’t sleep with his hoodie on.

_“…Why’re you thinking about that, self? You’ve only known him two days…”_ You push that thought out of your mind and stretch to wake yourself up. You feel your face and realize you haven’t shaved in a little while, so you hope it looks alright.

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL MAKE YOU SOME BREAKFAST, PROTAG! IT’S ALWAYS GOOD TO WAKE UP TO SOME WARM FOOD.”

“Thanks a bunch, you’re right. Heh, should be better than the cereal I pour myself every morning.”

“NYEH! THAT SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING MY BROTHER WOULD SAY… IF I DIDN’T COOK FOR HIM ALREADY, OF COURSE.” He pulls some stuff out of the fridge and starts preparing it, and you decide to be polite and not watch.

Your mind goes back to that noise from last night. It doesn’t seem like anyone came into the house, so could it have been one of the brothers? The younger skeleton doesn’t look bothered by anything, and if Sans is still in a sleepy mood, he probably had a good rest and doesn’t want to get out of bed. Heck, there could’ve been a kid in the town pulling pranks. Still, you find it best to ask when he comes down.

Just then, you hear the other door creak open, and Sans emerges from his room. Again, he’s wearing the same outfit, so it’s safe to assume he wears it every day. His slippers make a thumping noise as he comes down the steps, and he looks about the same as last night.

“hey, protag. congrats on surviving your first night in snowdin.”

“Heh, thanks, Sans. I wasn’t too worried.” He plops down on the couch, and you let him have it to himself.

“Got any plans for today?”

“eh, not sure. no shows for a few days, so maybe i’ll go sell hot dogs. saturdays are good for business."

“Well, I hope you get a great turnout!”

“oh, i’m sure i will. most people just ask for ketchup on theirs, so i can sell a few hundred in an hour. there aren’t many **fell**ows that like mustard, so i’ve got it down to a routine.”

You’re about to ask when it’s usually open so you can give it a try, when Papyrus suddenly calls from the kitchen.

“BREAKFAST’S READY, YOU TWO!”

“okay, we’ll be right there.” Sans turns towards you and speaks a little quieter.

“paps’ cooking changes by day, so make sure you let him know you like it. i don’t have the heart to say it tastes off when it’s not as good, but he’s been getting better.” It’s been clear already that Papyrus is passionate for everything he does, so you make sure to follow Sans’ request as you step into the kitchen to eat.

“BON APPETIT!” You look down at your plate and find… a steaming hot plate of spaghetti. For what it’s worth, it looks like a lot of care went into it, with the fresh tomatoes in the sauce and the garnish on top. Still, pasta for breakfast wasn’t the first thing you were expecting, but a guest shouldn’t judge. One look at Sans tells you this is a regular thing, as he doesn’t seem surprised at all.

“thanks, bro. my stomach would be rumbling right now if i had one.” It smacks you across the noggin that skeletons eat and breathe without any apparent organs. By this point, there’s so many unanswered questions that you find it pointless to dwell on them. You take your first bite, and have a mix of thoughts. The noodles aren’t very deeply cooked, perhaps out of excitement to serve them, but the tomatoes are quite fresh, and the garnish and seasoning’s a nice touch. Remembering what Sans asked, you turn towards Paps, who’s serving his own plate now.

“This is great stuff, Papyrus! I can tell you care a lot about your cooking.”

“mhm, quality breakfast, bro.” You find yourself taking another look at how Sans eats, and the food seems to simply seep through his closed mouth.

“WHY, THANK YOU, PROTAG AND SANS! IF SPAGHETTI WORKS FOR LUNCH AND DINNER, WHY NOT BREAKFAST, TOO?” After taking his own first bite, Papyrus checks the clock.

“UH OH! I’M SUPPOSED TO MEET UP WITH UNDYNE AT NOON.” He starts eating at a rapid pace, and he’s finished with his plate before you and Sans are halfway through yours.

“I’M SORRY I HAVE TO CUT MY TIME WITH YOU SHORT, PROTAG. YOU’RE WELCOME BACK HERE ANY TIME! SANS, I TRUST YOU TO WATCH OVER HIM.”

“yeah, he’ll… *yawn*… be fine here.”

Papyrus seems concerned about Sans’s lack of energy, but he excitedly runs out the door to meet this ‘Undyne’ he mentioned, as his cape sways in the breeze. In the brief moment the door’s open, you notice the storm from last night’s ended, and monsters are walking around like nothing happened. Since it’s always snowy out here, they never have to shovel their yards.

“i’m gonna help myself to some coffee. want any?” You agree that some coffee would be nice, and he gets two mugs out.

“i don’t know what i’d do without this stuff. i guess it’s expected for a skeleton to be dead-tired, anyway, but you know.” He pours some coffee from the coffee maker into the two plain mugs.

“want any sugar?” You ask for some, and he proceeds to put one pack in yours and five in his. To you, that’d take the coffee flavor away, but everyone’s got their own tastes. Sans carefully steps towards the table, not wanting to spill coffee anywhere near Papyrus’s bone collection, and sets the mugs down.

“wait a bit before you drink it. you’re not burning your tongue on my watch.” As he says that, Sans sips the coffee right away anyway, making you wonder if he even has a tongue. So many questions, such little time.

“Thanks for the heads up.” You twiddle your thumbs a bit before realizing you can’t hold off the issue you’ve been thinking about all morning. The yawns Sans is having between sips are raising your concern, so you decide to speak up.

“I mean this with no harm, but did you sleep alright? You look pretty worn out.”

“…huh? oh, yeah, don’t worry, i’m groggy like this every morning. i’ll perk up later, buddyo. if you ask paps, he’d say the same thing.”

“I just wanna make sure you’ll be alright for your day. It sounded like I heard some shout last night, and I didn’t know if it interrupted you.”

“a shout? i only shout when i hit my toe bone, which i don’t think i did last night, and the house isn’t haunted. maybe one of my jokes gave you a nightmare or something.” Before he started talking, you thought you could see a moment of hesitation in his face. With how groggy he seems, though, who knows what it could mean.

“…Alright. You’ve been a nice guy, so if something’s up, I’ll listen.” You figure your coffee’s temperate enough by now and take a sip, and it’s pretty good; not too bitter or sweet. Sans sets his mug down, apparently already finished with his drink. The caffeine must be kicking in pretty quick, as he’s got more of a smile than earlier.

“see? i’m getting back to my regular do-nothing level.” You laugh, and for the first time, something flashes in your head that you hadn’t taken the time to consider sooner: the skeleton across the table from you’s pretty cute when he smiles.

“eh? you alright, bud?” You snap back into reality, realizing thinking about him put you in some sort of trance.

_“Dude, get it together, he’s just a new friend. This is no place for you to think up stuff like that…”_ For a moment, you mentally scold yourself, before turning your attention back to Sans.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Heh, guess I’ve been needing this coffee too.” You finish off the mug, and the caffeine hits you fairly rapidly as well. Perhaps you really did need it as much as Sans did. A glimpse at the clock tells you it’s past noon now, and you don’t want to overstay your welcome.

“I can get going soon, I don’t wanna be an intruder for too long. Thanks again for letting me stay, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your brother.” You’re about to bring the mug to the sink before you remember how high off the floor it is, and Sans gestures for you to leave it on the table so he can get it later.

“like i said earlier, don’t sweat it. thanks for putting up with my lesser jokes, home’s a good place to practice them.”

“Oh, they weren’t bad at all! They’re already way better than I could do.” You shake his hand, this time with no pranks, but before you can turn to leave the house, Sans calls back to you.

“hey, protag.”

“Yeah?”

“your company’s really been nice. a lot of the other humans i’ve met have honestly been pretty stubborn, but you’re a good listener, and you treat my brother well. i know it might seem like he’s sometimes a bit dramatic, but he deserves all the respect he can get for how hard he tries at what he sets his mind to.” He grabs a sticky note and writes something down on it, then hands it to you.

“here’s my number. if you ever wanna call or text, i’m there. besides, someone as laid back as me clearly has the best advice.”

"Pfff, I'm sure you do. I've never seen you not smile, so you've gotta be doing one thing or another right." You take the note with no hesitation.

"well, i don't wanna keep ya too long, sure ya got human stuff to do. real nice getting to know a new friend today."

"Same here, Sans. I'm not telling a fib-ia when I say I think this is gonna be something real nice." You share a laugh, and decide it's best to get going before you let yourself get stuck in joke land all day, as admittedly nice as that would be. With a wonderful morning ready to motivate you through the day, you zip up your hoodie and turn around to leave the house and head back to your apartment. Rocko gets a little pat as you step out the door.


	5. Going Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After staying for the night and enjoying a nice breakfast, courtesy of Papyrus, you decide to head back to your apartment. Sans gave you his number before you left, and you're eager to reach out to him... perhaps a little too eager, considering you've got somewhere to walk to.

**Chapter 5 – Going Up**

The air’s still brisk as you leave the house and walk down Snowdin’s main road. As you saw earlier, everyone’s out and about like nothing’s happened, so they must get bad storms often. You feel bad for them, but remind yourself they chose to live here and probably know how to adapt.

Turning near Grillby’s, you stroll back to the river where you took the boat to arrive, and the Riverperson happens to arrive moments later. Maybe they set up cameras by all their stops or something.

“Greetings again. Do you wish to ride on my boat?” This time, it’s shaped like a regular canoe and not a dog, but it’s becoming harder to be surprised in a place like this. You agree and let them know you’d like to go back to Hotland.

“Then we’re off…” The boat takes off, this time in the water and not running over it. You watch the town of Snowdin slowly get smaller as you move farther away, and find yourself hoping the skeletons enjoy the rest of their day.

It seemed like Sans was waking up more, now that he’d had his coffee and was planning to sell hot dogs. When you get to Hotland, you’ll text him about it, but you didn’t want to risk using your phone near the moving water.

As you watch the boat cut through the water and leave ripples in its tracks, it hits you that Sans was much quicker to appreciate your kindness than the humans up where you used to live. It felt truly refreshing meeting someone with the kind of character he has. Since he reached out to you with the number, you tell yourself, he must’ve enjoyed the company too.

This was not the kind of opportunity you’d want to waste, so you assure yourself to keep reaching out to him and to meet up when possible. You also told yourself to spend time with his brother, too, so he doesn’t feel left out. As you continue to dwell on the thought, the boat nears its station in Hotland.

“Skeletons… bones of white and clothes of blue… and terrible hot dogs.” Again, the Riverperson seems to read your mind, but your first instinct is to object about the hot dogs. Even if you haven’t gotten to try one yet, you’re sure they’re great. Before you can say anything, though, the boat arrives at the station and comes to a stop. You decide to keep quiet about the hot dogs, not wanting to say something that’ll make you lose your boat privileges.

“Come back soon… or not… Tra la la.” The Riverperson ominously stands in their boat, watching over the water as you stepped out and started to make your way back.

You stick your hands in your pockets as you start to make the walk back to your apartment, when you suddenly feel something in your right hand. There’s a pair of earbuds stuck in the bottom of the pocket, which you must’ve forgotten you brought along the way. It takes about two minutes to get the whole knot untangled, but you eventually do it, before plugging them in and tapping the randomize button, wanting a surprise.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNMqyrhPrXY>

Well, _that _sure works as a surprise. Of all the songs you could've gotten, you happen to get one called Them Bones after spending a night with skeletons. What’re the odds? Whether or not this song ends up being forearmshadowing, you're probably looking too deeply into it for your own good. You want to have a clear mind when you talk to Sans, and music for the walk should help.

Even as the shreds and gripping lyrics soothe your ears through the earbuds, your mind keeps coming back to how you’d been treated by him.

_“Does he think I’m a nice guy, or am I just the only one to compliment him for his shows?”_ Questions keep running through your head as you find yourself closer to the Core.

_“…Don’t ask him about that, self. You’ve got something good going here, and you don’t want to ruin it. Neither him nor you know each other well enough to open up about a lot, anyway. Give this time.” _Your inner monologues don’t prove to give much comfort, as you find yourself thinking about nothing else on the elevator up to the Core’s top. As the doors open at the top, you feel a buzzing from your pocket. By some impulse, you feel inclined to pull it out right away, and it shows the text you’ve received.

**“hey, protag. if you’re reading this, it means some dork got your number right.”** You eagerly text back.

**“Oh, hey, Sans! How’d you get my number? I thought you only gave yours to me.”**

**“my bro called every number he could until he found your message voice. don’t ask me how he’s so fast at that, i gave up trying to figure it out.”** When you look up, though, you notice that you took too long to read his messages, so the elevator doors closed, and it’s moving down again to get more people. You kick yourself a bit for not being more aware as the door opens at the bottom and more people hop in. As the elevator goes back up, you feel another vibration in your pocket, but you’re able to hold off this time, not wanting to make a third trip. Once you get out at the top with the rest of the crowd, you check the screen.

**“i’m actually having second thoughts about the hot dogs today. my spine’s feeling a little sore, and it’d be a tragedy if that made me mess up someone’s food.” **You immediately feel a little sinking feeling in your gut; not from you not being able to get a hot dog today, but that your new friend’s dealing with a pain. Your mind takes a moment to curse whatever caused him to not feel well before you text back.

**“That’s alright, your health comes first.”**

**“i’ll try to open up tomorrow, though. you can come early to avoid the line.”**

**“Sounds good to me! Really you feel better soon.”**

**“heh, me, too. without puns and hot dogs, the world’ll fall into chaos.”** You laugh a little more as you approach the entrance to New Home, now near your apartment.

It bums you out that Sans isn’t feeling great. He seemed fine in the morning, but neck pains can take a bit to show up, so you get why he didn’t feel them until now. Still, you hope he’s not feeling disappointed, since it seems like his hot dogs are a fun way for him to pass the time and make a little more money. With how his bills were stuffed in his mailbox earlier, though, you assure yourself money isn’t something he worries about a lot. Without really thinking about the route, you arrive at the bottom of your apartment building, and head in to take the elevator. Of course, your phone vibrates as soon as you push the button to go up, but you don’t fall for the same mistake again. Once the door opens at your floor, you step out and read.

**“silly me forgot to ask, but what kinda work do you do? i hope it’s as exciting as mine.”**

**“I do all sorts of things at a big retail store in New Home. Stocking things, customer service, you name it. Not my biggest goal, but it gets G coming in.”**

**“welp, your plan’s already more than i’ve done. i actually used to have other ideas for a career, but comedy became my thing.”**

**“Oh nice, what kind of stuff were you thinking of?”**

**“i’ll tell ya tomorrow. free of charge with the 'dog.” **

Even though it’s just a text, you can imagine the wink that Sans would’ve done if he said it out loud. You agree to his offer as you enter your apartment and head to the kitchen, a little hungry again after that long walk. The spaghetti might’ve not been the most filling, anyway. After heating up some water, you wait for the noodles to cook and think about how you want to spend your day. There isn’t much to do for a Saturday afternoon, though, so most of it ends up being lazing around… and admittedly looking forward to tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alice In Chains is responsible for Them Bones, I have no involvement with the production of the song.


	6. More Ketchup, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good night of rest gets you ready to meet up with Sans. He's going to have his hot dog stand open, and promised to let you know some stuff from when he was growing up. You're eager to see him again, and a little nervous, too, but you're not sure what for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I apologize this chapter took a while for me to put up, I had a lot to do. My tentative release schedule for now on will be a chapter each weekend, but if I can't keep up with that, I apologize. Anyhoo, hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 6 – More Ketchup, Please**

After an uneventful evening and night of sleep, you wake up and realize it’s already 10:30. After the last two days, you probably needed the sleep anyway, and it also means it’s closer to when the hot dog stand will open. Sans had sent another text last night saying he was planning to open up at 12, as long as he doesn't pass out again. You hope that isn't a regular thing he worries about, but regardless, you start to get ready to make the walk.

You don’t make it a priority to shave that often, but for some reason, something in your gut’s telling you to clean up before the visit. It’s just a hot dog stand, but your head tells you to still look nice, so you shave up and fortunately don’t cut yourself in the process. With that, you head out the door, this time without a hoodie so you don’t melt in Hotland.

It’s a Sunday morning, so the roads aren’t as crowded as they were yesterday. You’re fine with that, since it’ll be easier to get there pretty quickly, and you can also let your mind drift off a bit without having to worry about walking into someone.

As you get closer to Hotland, you find yourself checking your looks more than you usually would. You make sure your pants are straight and that your shirt doesn’t have any creases. Sans would be the last person to judge someone for their outfit, you tell yourself, but you still keep checking the little things, unsure if you’re trying to impress him or are just being more careful after meeting someone new. As you pass through the MTT Hotel, you text Sans to let him know you’re almost there.

**“cool beans. i’ll be there soon, but feel free to have any free ketchup if you get there first.”**

**“I wouldn’t think ketchup’s something I’d drink anyways, but thanks anyways haha.”**

**“you’d be surprised. ever wonder why all those empty bottles were around when you were at my place?”** You think back to that night and put two and two together, and decide it’s not worth asking into. As you get to the elevator, you see a little flame man that’s been stuck in one place with a shocked expression every time you’ve come down here. You’d try to help, but figure he would’ve been taken away already if something was seriously wrong, so you keep going and take the elevator down to Right Floor 2.

You take a deep breath as the elevator doors slide open and you step out. After just another minute of walking, you can see a sentry station in the distance, and a blue hoodie that pops out from all the red and orange that surrounds it. There’s somehow unshoveled snow on top of the station, but you figured out long ago that weather down here’s not the same as the surface. Hurrying towards the smell of hot dogs, you see a little sign that says ‘open’, and when you check your watch, you see it’s exactly noon. Just in time.

“hey, protag. guess i overestimated my popularity, heh. you’re the only one to come by so far.” Getting some closer eye socket contact with Sans lets you notice he's using a soccer mom chair. You can't blame him; if he's gonna be here all afternoon, he'll wanna stay comfy, and those things work wonders.

“It smells great, I’m sure more people are gonna come around here soon.”

“sure hope so. how else am i gonna get the money for my bro’s action figures?” He chuckles a bit.

“You buy those for him?”

“yeah, he works as a personal trainer, so he doesn’t always have people to work with and get paid from. heard he’s really good at pushing people to get more active and confident, though.”

“Sounds like a great job for him.”

“yeah, i’m proud of him for it. i get him a figure every once in a while, especially when… *yawn*… the holidays come around.” He looks tired again.

“You feeling alright?”

“eh, i’ll be fine. it takes longer for me to get going than my bro. i’ll be less **dead** tired when more folks show up.” There’s the Sans you know. You check the sign on the front of the stand, which reads, _“great or not so great hot dogs since 202X. your call. only 30g.”_   
_  
That’s pretty affordable for a hot dog,_ you think to yourself, as you pull 30G out from your wallet.

“anything ya want on it?”

“Surprise me.” With that, Sans gets a hot dog and dumps a big load of ketchup on it like it’s nothing. It’s a pretty big hot dog, though, so you’re sure it’ll still taste fine.

“here’s your ‘dog. hope it’s as good as advertised.” You carefully take a big bite. It’s really good; not just because it’s your friend that made it, either. It wasn’t over nor undercooked.

“This is great! Glad I saved up my appetite for it.” Taking a napkin, you make sure to keep your face clean.

“gotta keep the people happy. who wouldn’t want a ‘dog out in this hot abyss?” He starts making one for himself, oddly putting his own money in his cash jar.

“i don’t like theft.” You don’t question it, as he drenches his hot dog in even more ketchup than he put on yours. Your burning curiosity wonders how he eats something as big as a hot dog, but you keep to your manners and look at your own food as he takes his first bite of his.

“besides, i’ve gotta fuel up before they all come.”

“I thought you said you had breakfast before you left.”

“yeah, and the walk made me hungry again.” There’s now a splat of ketchup by his mouth as he pulls a napkin out.

“fashion and looks aren’t really my thing, but i have to look professional enough, too. this is serious business.” His face is all bright and clean now.

“aside from my hoodie, though. it’s always in style.”

“You’re not boiling out here with that on?”

“no blood to get warm. why’d ya think i’m able to get by fine back at home?”

“Fair point.” As you take your next bite, you notice a crowd of people making their way out of the elevator you came from.

“welp, there they are. i’ve got no idea how they do their work on a sunday, but i’m not one to judge.” Not one of them pass by the stand; Sans must set up here enough for them to expect a bite to eat each time. You don’t want to interrupt his business, so you keep your distance while he works through each customer.

He keeps a smile for everyone that steps up to the stand, and while you’re not sure if that smile’s permanent, you can tell it’s genuine. Everyone wants to have a bit of conversation and he gladly joins in, either talking about what their days are gonna be like, or simply to make a pun. The type of social energy he keeps up is very admirable, and it’s clear why all the workers keep coming back to him. After the last one gets their food, Sans says some joke about their jobs that you don’t quite get, and they all wave as they head off to wherever they have to be.

“welp. wasn’t paying attention today.” There’s a big splat of ketchup on Sans’ right sleeve, probably from how fast he was moving. He pulls out a bunch of napkins and tries to get it off before throwing them to the ground.

“eh, it’ll come out in the wash.”

“You were doing great! Really cool you’ve brought all those people together.”

“it’s just something i do to not be bored. givin' them something to do before work was a nice coincidence to it.”

“When I was leaving your place yesterday, you said you’d talk about your old career idea.”

“oh yeah, that. heh, what a nightmare that would’ve been.” He yawns a bit, likely still getting into his groove for the day. No more customers are coming, so you figured it was a good time to ask.

“back when i was in school, i thought i was gonna go into science. had my own lab coat and all this other stuff.”

“What happened?”

“got to be too much. if i kept up with it, i just would’ve worked myself too far down to the bone.” You can practically hear the ba-dum-tsshh in your head.

“so, um, yea. decided i didn’t wanna work with chemicals my whole life. what i’m doing fits me better, anyway.”

“Yeah, I feel you with that. The world’s got its way of making one path seem ‘right’, when everyone’s really gotta find what they love."

“gotcha one hundred percent. i don’t wanna be the only one down here making dumb puns, if other people wanna do that for a living, they should, too.”

“Have you ever tried doing shows up on the surface?”

“a couple times, but they didn’t go as well. maybe my jokes are just bad up there, or i can’t relate as much. it’s fine, though, the hotel and grillby’s give me free food, so they’re all i really need.”

There still aren’t any more customers, so the two of you go back and forth for a while about comedy. For someone that seems to make a lot of his jokes on the fly, you can tell he really cares about his product.

“hey, i just remembered something that i’d like to offer. i’ve got another show at grillby’s on friday. would you wanna swing by after your work and then stay for the night again? i don’t wanna be responsible for you getting blown away by another blizzard, and i promise i won’t forget to bring my mail in again.” Another wink.

“Sounds good to me! It’ll give me something to look forward to for my work week, aha.” Suddenly, Sans closes his eyes and seems to let out a bit of a deep breath.

“and… it is nice having a friend around. i like it when my brother goes off to do his job, cause that makes him happy, but it can get kinda quiet out here. i’ve never had a bone to pick with you, anyway.” You laugh again, and for a moment you think you feel your face getting a little warm before cooling yourself down. Sans pulls the cash register out again and takes from it.

“here. keep your 30g. it’s on the house.”

“I thought you didn’t like theft?”

“it ain’t theft if i’m offering you this.”

“True.” You insist you don’t need the money back, but Sans really doesn’t seem to want to keep it, so you eventually take it from him.

“Thanks a bunch, dude. If your profits are short today, I can easily give it back.”

“don’t sweat it. i’m expecting more later, anyways. besides, if i can make some people smile, i’ve hit my goal.” He lets out a little burp, and you have to ask yourself why ‘cute’ was the first word that entered your head. It’s still only been a few days. A few more minutes pass, and Sans is right about more of a crowd coming. This one’s bigger than before, and some families are mixed in, too, so you figure it’s lunchtime.

“welp, fame comes with a price. don’t feel like ya have to stay, unless watching me make ‘dogs is mesmerizing.” He gets back to work, putting a smile on everyone’s face in the process. Remembering that it’s your turn to report the shipments for the upcoming week of work, you decide to part ways once the line’s emptied out. Realizing there’s still a bit of the hot dog yet, you take the final, ketchup-filled bite.

“enjoy your ‘dog. part of a perfectly balanced lunch.” The last family heads off, and now it’s just you and Sans again.

“I’d stick around longer, but I’ve got some work stuff to do. Sorry to leave you hanging.”

“eh, don’t sweat it. gave me something to enjoy to start my day. you’ve endured my hot dog jokes for long enough, anyway.”

“You sure you don’t want the money for the one I got?”

“it’s no problemo. humans have their organs to fuel up, anyway. anything i eat would pass right through.” He chuckles a bit.

“good luck and all that with your work.” You’re about to turn away to head back to your apartment, but Sans suddenly stops you.

“wait, i got an idea. one hot dog’s not really enough for a meal, but i don’t want ya to feel bad if i gave you two free ‘dogs.” He quickly whips another one together, and without warning, he sets it on top of your head.

“…What’re you doing?”

“it’s a challenge. if it can stay on top of your head the whole way home, you can keep it. no hands, that’d be cheating.” It seems pretty ridiculous to you, but you can tell that Sans won’t have much else going on today, so you agree to it.

“take a picture when you get back if you win. if you can’t, i won’t judge.”

“I’ll do my best. Hope you get good sales today.”

“see ya, hot-head.” You laugh a bit as you slowly head to the elevator as Sans watches. You reach the door and open it, and the hot dog hasn’t fallen yet. It would’ve been sad if it fell in front of Sans’ face, so you give a thumbs up before you enter and hit the button.

The walk’s a lot more interesting now, as you awkwardly make your way through Hotland. There aren’t many people to watch, but you still feel nervous every step that the hot dog’s gonna tip. You can feel vibrations from your pocket, probably Sans trying to get into your head, but you keep your focus as you approach New Home. The thought of getting your work out of the way makes you think about going faster, but the smells coming from the hot dog are also tempting, so you stick with it.

The streets are more crowded now, and some monsters and humans are starting to give weird looks, but you remind yourself that Sans would say to not let anyone stop you, so you just keep a little smile on your face as you near the apartment building. As you open the front door, you feel the hot dog starting to slide back a bit, so you have to do a weird slouch as you head to the elevator.

It puts strain on your back, but the thought of making your friend happy keeps you going as you make it to the door to your room. After slowly opening it, you enter the apartment and shut it behind you, considering the challenge beaten. You pull your phone out of your pocket and snag a quick picture before anything can happen, then pull the hot dog off your head. Some ketchup’s stuck up there now, but you remind yourself the hardest sacrifices need the strongest wills.

**“oh wow, you actually did it? i’m impressed, paps tried a few times but couldn’t do it.”**

**“The thought of a good ‘dog kept me going.”**

**“heh, enjoy. you’ve earned it.” **With the thought of Sans motivating you for the upcoming week, you pull a plate out and take your first bite.


	7. Planted Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caution: Brief non-graphic violence and bigotry in this chapter.
> 
> A week passes, and it's time for Sans' next show in Snowdin. You've been looking forward to it for a while, so you make sure to get there ahead of time, not wanting to pass up the opportunity. Along the way, though, something happens that makes you more fearful in the Underground than you'd ever been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that your name goes wherever ‘Protag’ is!

** Chapter 7 – Planted Feet **

“so, my line’s moving as usual, and i’m spreading ketchup on this guy’s ‘dog.” A week’s passed, and you’re right back at Grillby’s for Sans’ next show. Not wanting to miss the chance to see him do his stuff up close again, you’d been texting with him earlier to see when he’d be starting.

**“around seven or so. if people are coming in droves for my clearly amazing food, that gives me more time.”**

**“Alright, sounds good to me. I’ll make sure to head out early to get a good seat.”**

**“oh. well, i guess my irresistible looks are better up close.” **His dry humor left you speechless for a good minute, so he spoke up again.

**“heh, just messing with ya. it’s what’s under the hoodie that counts anyway.” **It was the perfect chance for you to strike back.

**“You’re telling me I should admire your ribs?”**

**“pfft- you got me there. and no, my ribs are perfectly boring.”**

The walk to Grillby’s was the same as last time, but after a pretty average week of work, you were glad to have something different to do. Most of it was moving stuff in the back again, or giving customers recommendations for products if the back didn’t need you. Better than an understaffed week, but still not much to get you excited, so this show’s been something you’ve wanted for a while.

As you enter Snowdin and that now familiar cold hits your face, you think of how lucky the whole ordeal last weekend was. While you felt a little bad at the time to be using the home of someone you’d just met, you now realize it really was nothing, and that it’s ultimately brought you and Sans together. Without it, things could still be pretty boring, so you’re very glad it’s fallen into place like this. Your thoughts are interrupted, though, by some distant shouts.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you with the black hoodie!” At first, you don’t think much of it, figuring a black hoodie’s a pretty regular thing and someone else could have one, too, but then they shout again.

“Don’t ignore us! We’re talking to you, airhead.” This time, you do pay attention, and see four humans together about a hundred feet from Grillby’s. They all seem to have a smirk on their faces.

“You’re the one that went to the tiny skeleton’s house the other day. Got a boyfriend you’re visiting, or something?” Hearing the harshness in their voices and seeing the group slowly getting closer, you speed your way through the doors of the pub, not wanting any trouble.

As you find an open table and order some grub, you keep wondering why those people were being that way. You’d never met any of them, as far as you can remember; come to think of it, the last time you were in Snowdin, you didn’t see any other humans. Where they could’ve seen you from last week is a mystery, and there’s nothing to point out what kind of motive they had. Not wanting to let this mess with your enjoyment of the show, you try to push it to the back of your mind as the time gets closer to seven.

While you starting digging into some good ol’ burg, the doors open again. Part of you thinks it’ll be those humans, but fortunately, it’s Papyrus. You wave and gesture to the open seat at your table, where he eagerly heads to.

“GREETINGS, PROTAG! I HOPE YOUR WEEK’S BEEN TREATING YOU WELL.”

“Thanks, Papyrus, same with you. Things been any different?”

“NO, MORE OF THE SAME STUFF. ONE OF MY CLIENTS IS UP TO 50 OF HIS 100 LAP-RUNNING GOAL, THOUGH, SO I’M HAPPY SEEING HIM GET BETTER.”

“Why didn’t your brother come along? His show’s starting in a few minutes.”

“HE WANTED TO EAT AT HOME FIRST. AS GREAT AS HIS ENTERTAINMENT IS, I THINK GRILLBY DOESN’T WANT HIS TAB GETTING EVEN BIGGER.”

“He hasn’t been paying it off?”

“OH, BOY, IF YOU ONLY KNEW. HALF THE TIME, HIS MAIL HAS A LETTER ASKING HIM TO FINALLY COVER SOME OF IT.” Before you can ask more into it, the doors open again, and this time, it’s Sans. He’s still been wearing the same hoodie every time you’ve seen him, and you admire his consistency. Everyone greets him again, and he talks to some friends for a bit before getting up on stage.

Now that the skeletons are both here, you can stop thinking about those people outside the pub, as Sans steps to the microphone. Wanting to enjoy the show, you shake off the thought and focus back on that joke he started.

“i kept putting ketchup on, the way i like it, but then he gives me this look and says i’m turning his food into a crime scene. i’ve gotta take my craft serious, though, so I look back at him in the eye and say, ‘look, i’ll be **frank** with you. if you’re gonna tell me i’m putting too much on, i might starting thinking you have a bone to pick with me.” A classic.

He pushes through the rest of show, delivering quality line after line. Once again, he doesn’t repeat a thing from last time, and you find yourself marveling at his ability. It seemingly flies by, and it’s not long before he’s finished and gets a standing ovation. You and Paps catch his eyesocket as he heads down.

“hey, guys.” He puts his foot up on the table for some reason. “glad it didn’t take too long for me to eat, or i’d have to stick a sock in my show time today.”

“SANS! YOUR SHOW’S OVER. SAVE YOUR JOKES FOR NEXT TIME.”

“eh, i’ve gotta stay fresh.”

“Even right after your performance?”

“yup.” You zip your hoodie up and get ready to head out.

“WE CAN TALK OUTSIDE IN A BIT, PROTAG. I MUST TALK TO MY BROTHER ABOUT THIS TAB OF HIS.”

“right now?”

“YES, RIGHT NOW! I DON’T WANT US GETTING KICKED OUT.” You agree to give them their space and leave the money for your own bill before heading out. As you open the doors, though, your fear from earlier comes true.

The humans are still there. Apparently, they didn’t want you getting far, either, because they’re standing in a line in front of the sign to the pub. You decide to speak up.

“What do you all want? All I did was go inside to see the show.”

“Yeah, to see _him_ again,” the taller one snarled. “We’re looking for a place to stay, and if we’re gonna move here, we can’t be surrounded by any of _that_.” None of the others said anything but nodded, apparently making him the leader of their little gang.

“I can’t go visit a friend in peace?”

“Oh, please. You’re more than that, and it’s disgusting.”

“What’s your problem?! I’m-” You’re grabbed by the front of your shirt by the tallest, and one shove later, your lack of balance knocks you off your feet.

Not wanting to shove and let the others say they were ‘provoked’, you try to run down the road and get away from them. The snow prevents you from moving quick, though, and one of the group has enough time to grab your shirt by the back. Once they have you, the others circle around and being to take turns taking jabs and laughing.

* * *

Your worst memories start flashing back to mind. You were never really someone to talk about your attraction, but one way or another, the other humans at your school found out. Through the inequality of surface life, some of the others had their ways of trying to make your life hell. Most times, you were able to ignore it, but when the worst of them came in groups, it was impossible to ignore.

Only once had something physical happened, but even that was just some shoves before a teacher noticed. Now, though, there was no code of rules to be followed, or surveillance to catch what was happening. You start mentally kicking yourself for your choice to move down here. The Underground seemed like a place to get away from all that, but it’s still here…

* * *

You hear a sudden zap and are let go, and don’t feel the contact anymore. Your mind’s still rapidly shooting out memories and feelings, but when you’re able to open your eyes, you see you’re not alone. Sans is standing by your side, completely still, with both of his white pupils gone. He’s still smiling, but the joy of it isn’t there. You can feel a chill in your spine from the sight of him. The other humans quietly stand for a few moments before scoffing.

“What’re _you_ doing here? Trying to get your boyfriend away? Back off before we have to put you in your place, too-”

They abruptly stop as Sans lifts his left arm up. Somehow, this pulls the humans about five feet up off the ground, before he quickly swings his arm down. With violent force, they come down with it, faceplanting hard into the snow. Sans slowly walks closer to them with the same motionless expression on his face, and speaks in a low, rolling voice that makes your insides freeze.

“H e y. C a u g h t a l o o k o f w h a t y o u ‘ r e d o i n g. T h i s w o r l d h a s n o p l a c e f o r s c u m l i k e y o u.” He steps so close that his slipper is rubbing along one of their faces.

“I f y o u v a l u e t h e a b i l i t y t o w a l k, g e t o u t o f h e r e. N o w.” All of them lay sprawled in the snow, seemingly in fear of Sans’ apparent power. One by one, they pull themselves off the ground and sprint away, hopefully never to be seen in Snowdin again. Sans then reaches for your arm and pulls you up.

“what hurts? i can get you to a doctor right away.”

“I… I’m fine. It didn’t last long.”

“but you’ve got all these bruises.”

“Nothing’s… _all_ that sore. It’s not something I’d need a doctor for, but… thank you for being here.” With your head as scrambled as it is, you can’t think of anything else to say. The smile that he always has, even when he was confronting the humans, is fading a little.

“either way, you can’t be out in the cold like this. paps and i are taking you to the house right now.” He waves over to his brother, who must have watched this unfold from the front of the pub doors. Papyrus comes over onto your right side, and Sans stands on the left as they walk with you to the house, both of them watching around to make sure none of the humans try to give another go. The grin you usually see on the younger brother’s face is gone, too, now replaced with concern.

“COME WITH US, PROTAG. WE’LL GET YOU COMFORTABLE.” Feeling very low, but at least grateful the two were there, you quietly enter the house.


	8. Comfort in Oatmeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the brutal treatment the other humans dealt to you, Sans and Papyrus lead you to their house. There, they plan to treat you the best they can, hoping your perceptions of the Underground after the horrible sequence of events haven’t changed.

**Chapter 8 – Comfort in Oatmeal**

The front door opens, and you feel a wave of warm air hitting your face in the spots where the bruises had started forming. Sans and Papyrus remain by your sides, making sure you don’t have any trouble stepping through. Your vision’s a little blurred up from what happened, but it’s good enough to see that a Mettaton show’s loudly playing on the TV. Someone must’ve forgotten to turn it off before heading out.

_“And now, darlings, for the next step in making this dish, you must-”_ Papyrus grabs the remote, hits the power button, and firmly tosses it down onto the couch in frustration.

“OUR TOWN NEVER HAS DINGUSES LIKE THAT, AND RIGHT NOW’S WHEN THEY DECIDE TO COME... WE’RE DEEPLY SORRY THEY DID WHAT THEY DID, PROTAG.”

“whenever we’re out and about, we’ll make sure they never think of coming back.” You never overheard them talking about it, but they seem to silently agree. Papyrus takes a deep breath and pulls the remote off the couch before straightening the cushions.

“PROTAG, LIE DOWN HERE. MY BROTHER AND I WILL HELP GET YOU BETTER.” Your head’s not as sore as it was outside, but you don’t see any reason to argue, so you agree and gingerly lower yourself onto the couch, realizing your knees are aching more than you thought. The sinking feeling into the old cushions relieves some of the strain as the skeletons make their way to the kitchen.

“SANS, GET SOME ICE FOR PROTAG. I HAVE TO MAKE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR THEM.” You can hear a cabinet opening.

“y-you’re really gonna give him some of that? you’d been waiting months to get your hands on another box.”

“HE NEEDS IT MORE THAN WE DO, AND IF HE LOVES IT AS MUCH AS ME, IT SHOULD PUT A SMILE ON HIS FACE.”

“alright, your call. i just don’t want you to be chilled to the **bone** if you want it one day and it’s gone.” You can hear him snicker and find yourself smiling and laughing for the first time since the incident.

“SANS!! PROTAG NEEDS OUR HELP! YOU CAN’T BE STANDING AROUND, BOONDOGGLING!”

“aw, come on. he liked that one, too.” You didn’t realize you were loud enough for him to hear.

“…YOU’RE RIGHT. REGARDLESS, HE SHOULD GET THAT ICE.” Sans wraps a cloth over something, then walks over to the couch.

“here’s a cold press for your head. try not to give yourself brain freeze.” You appreciate that he wants to keep you happy. The ice begins to quickly relieve the throbbing feeling in your forehead, since the waters in the Underground have more minerals than the polluted waters of the surface.

“Thanks a bunch, this is helping a lot.”

“eh, once my brother’s done making his treat for you, he’ll be the one you’re thanking.”

“W-why’s that?” He gets a little closer and speaks in more of a whisper.

“there’s this oatmeal brand that papyrus would die for. we can only find it once every few months, though, and it bums him out when he can’t have any for a while.”

“He loves it that much?”

“even more than spaghetti.” There’s a half-sarcastic, half-serious tone in his voice.

“it’s not just him, either, that stuff really is amazing. he’s got big heart, letting you have some.”

“If it’s your special treat, I don’t wanna take away from that,” you insist.

“seriously, don’t sweat it. i mean, it might be hard to sweat with that thing on your head, but you get the point.” His expression suddenly loses some of its cheer.

“…i know part of me’s responsible for this. i never noticed those people around after i invited you. maybe my dumb jokes at the show made up for it a bit, but i shouldn’t have put you in danger.” You aren’t used to seeing Sans this strict on himself. Unsure of how Underground dwellers comfort each other, you place your hand on his shoulder, still covered by that blue hoodie of his.

“Please don’t blame yourself. Jerks are gonna be jerks, and what they did is on them. They’re just transplants from the surface, anyway. You and the rest of the pub are – ow - miles better.” Your neck stung a bit when you were pushing yourself up on the pillow.

“don’t push it. my brother and I have enough bones sticking out, you don’t need to have them do that, too.”

“Heh, I’ll try not to.” A pot starts fizzing in the kitchen, and you can hear Papyrus pouring some water into a bowl. A moment later, he hurries over towards you and his brother.

“HERE YOU ARE, PROTAG. THIS IS THE BEST OATMEAL IN THE UNDERGROUND, AND I’M CERTAIN YOU WILL AGREE. IT ALWAYS HELPS WHEN I’M DOWN.” There’s still steam coming through the food, and you can see the raisins that are precariously placed between the oats.

“you better eat it now before it gets as cold as the ice i refuse to scrape off the roof.” Not wasting any time, you scoop a big spoonful and take your first bite, and instantly agree with everything the skeletons were saying about it. You can tell why Papyrus saves it for special occasions; it’s the perfect creamy texture, and the raisins give it just the right amount of sweetness. It makes you wonder why he talks about spaghetti much more often, but you digress. Once you’ve made sure you’ve swallowed all of the bite, you thank him for the bowl.

“This stuff’s amazing! I – ow – really appreciate you letting me have this.” Remembering what Sans said about it getting cold, you get right back to eating.

“WELL, YOU DESERVE IT. GOOD THING WE STILL HAVE THAT SHED NEXT TO THE HOUSE, CAUSE IF ANYONE DESERVES TO GET LOCKED UP, IT’S THOSE MORONS.” They both take another look out the window to make sure the humans aren’t still there, but there’s no sight of them.

“maybe we need a whoopee cushion defense system. they’d be too dumb to notice it.” You both chuckle again.

“THAT MAY NOT BE A BAD IDEA, ACTUALLY. THE WHOLE TOWN COULD CHIP IN.”

“Eh, I don’t want you to have to do all this for my sake. I’ve got my own apartment in New Home, anyway.” With the aroma of the oatmeal filling the room, you keep helping yourself to the bowl, until it’s soon empty. You wipe off the bit on your mouth with your sleeve, and Papyrus takes the bowl back to the kitchen. Now, it’s just you and Sans.

“So, um… when’s your next show?”

“i dunno, actually. haven’t scheduled one in a bit. maybe my puns are running bone-dry and i have to work them up again.”

“I’m sure whenever you ask to get another evening, they’ll give it.”

“heh, thanks, my dude. you’re way more considerate than the humans at my last surface show.”

“What happened there?”

“it was weird, they made all these jabs about me having no skin. i dunno what their point was, i’ve always been a skeleton and it’s gonna stay that way.”

“Don’t take it to heart. Lots of humans get like that.”

“yeah, snowdin has everything i need, anyway. a bit bummed some of the regs at grillby’s moved away, but they did what made ‘em happy. hopefully that bunny that drank too much found the special someone they were looking for.” He glances over at the clock and realizes it’s getting pretty late.

“welp, papyrus is probably gonna want his bedtime story soon.”

“The same one as last time?”

“yup. it helps comfort him. no matter what’s goin’ on, he can always look forward to my deep, dragging voice giving that story. i’d invite you to listen too, but i dunno if he’d wanna share.”

“It’s fine, I don’t wanna intrude on what you enjoy doing together. Kind of you to do that for him.”

“eh, it’s nothing. i’ve grown so used to it that i think it’d throw **me** off if i didn’t give him the story.” He strolls over to the closet and starts pulling some sheets out. You’re about a head taller than him, so he has to reach hard to grab them. When he finally does touch the sheets, though, he pulls down too hard, and they come crashing down on his head.

“You okay, dude?” He struggles for a couple seconds before pulling the sheets off.

“yeah, i’m fine. good thing it was only two sheets, if _three whole sheets_ had landed on me, i’d be done for.” That sarcastic tone in his voice you’re used to is back, as you notice that one of his mittens came off in the sheet pile. He must have noticed, too, as he starts grabbing around in the pile with his bare hand. As you watch him try to find it, your mind flashes another quick, unexpected thought.

_“Gosh, it’s cute watching him be stumped like that.”_ For some reason, it’s harder to put this one away than the other times you thought about things like this, and you don’t know if you should tell yourself to stop or let it happen. Maybe the events from earlier knocked your internal filter around. Apparently, it's distracted you so much that you’re still looking at the closet, even after Sans found his mitten again and brought the sheets over.

“ya okay, protag? something still sore?” You shake your head and snap back into focus.

“Urm… y-yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the sheets.” He lays them over the couch to get you warm and comfortable. Papyrus was waiting by the door to his room now, and Sans gestures that he’ll be up there.

“get a good rest. there’s more ice in the fridge if you need it, but I don’t wanna be cold and tell you you’ll need more.” With his ever-present grin, he turns away and heads up the stairs to meet up with his brother. He doesn’t shut the door when they enter his room, though, and you can hear their conversation coming down through the hall.

“I HOPE HE STILL KNOWS HE’S SAFE HERE. IT’D BE HORRIBLE IF THOSE MORONS SCARED HIM AWAY FROM COMING BACK.” As expected, they’re talking more about you.

“i’m sure he knows. we’ve done what we can to make him at home.”

“MAKE SURE TO GIVE HIM WHATEVER HE WANTS TOMORROW. PROTAG’S BECOME A GOOD FRIEND, AND WE WANT TO KEEP IT THAT WAY."

“y-yeah, he has.” You aren’t sure what the moment of hesitation was about, but after a bit of a pause, you hear Papyrus getting into bed, and Sans starting to read the story. Not wanting to listen in, you turn your thoughts away from the story and give them their privacy. Eventually, they wrap it up, and Sans starts to head out of the room. Before he shuts the door, though, he says something really wholesome you hadn’t heard from him before.

“i love you.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO, BROTHER. HAVE A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP.”

Sans flips the light off and shuts the door, then looks downstairs and sees that you're still up. With how sweet their little exchange had been, mock-sleeping would've been too challenging to pull off.

“i hope ya didn’t hear any of fluffy bunny, it’s something you’d wanna hear up close for the first time.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention. Have a good rest.”

“same to you, protag. if anything still stings tomorrow, we'll be right here, you don't hafta send a buzz.” He makes his way to his room and switches off the house light as he enters. The living room’s now engulfed in darkness, as you try to put aside your thoughts of what happened in the evening. Reminding yourself to trust the skeletons and stay positive about the Underground, you sink your head into the pillow and try to let your mind drift off.

Unfortunately, this only lasts about three hours.


	9. Cold Doorknob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the skeleton brothers had a relaxed evening together. They helped you get comfortable after what had happened outside, and you made sure to show them your appreciation. Once the day was done, you tried to get some sleep... only for that goal to be drastically cut off.

**Chapter 9 – Cold Doorknob**

Another loud sound. It shoots you out of your sleep just as quick as the last time. Your first instinct is to think those humans broke in, but you sit on the couch and look at the door and windows, and don’t see anything. Immediately, you resign to the fact you won’t be falling asleep again anytime soon, and stand up from the couch, hearing the springs lift up through the returning tranquility of the house.

Not taking the time to cover your feet, you start walking around the bottom floor, your tired mind not registering that furniture and surfaces don’t combust into loud noise on thier own. Rocko’s in the same place they always are, despite a couple sprinkles being missing, the cabinet in the kitchen with Papyrus' bone collection isn’t open, and the sink’s not on. Realizing you’re getting nowhere, you take a moment to stop by the countertop and give some good thought to this, before it hits you.

That sound from last week. It’s the second night visiting in a row something woke you up, and that time, it felt like it was coming from Sans’ room. You couldn’t tell where it was tonight, but it can’t be coincidence for this to happen twice in a row. Feeling more focused now, you turn away from the kitchen and to the steps, hoping to figure out what’s going on.

You stand near Papyrus’s door first, to see if you hear anything unusual, but it’s the same light snoring you heard last time. His behavior seemed the same as always in the morning last week, anyway, so you assure yourself he’s alright and keep walking towards Sans’ room.

Standing upstairs reveals more of the odd red and yellow lights that emit from under his door, but despite that, there’s still a line of darkness apparently coming from the inside of the room, too. Now’s not the time to question the chemistry of the skeletons’ house, though. You put your ear up to the front of the door, trying to catch any sort of noise.

All that’s coming back is silence. No snoring, no heavy breathing, nothing. Your mind starts worrying something happened to his health, and you slowly place your hand on the doorknob. All of your fingers are clenching the cold brass, and your about to turn it, before your mind suddenly has sharp doubts.

While etiquette on the surface might let you suddenly check in on someone if they’re hurt, what if it’s different in the Underground? As far as you know, entering someone’s room at any time unannounced could be a great breach of privacy, and might make him feel even worse.

Then there was the even riskier alternative: what if nothing was wrong at all? What if that noise was simply something that came from your head, or perhaps some of that construction in town near the river? If Sans is sleeping perfectly still in his bed, you ask yourself, and you come in, would he think you’re about to harm him? You’d seen the kind of power he had, and one miscommunication could either end your friendship, or end some of your bodily functions.

Still, though, your heart is telling you that something could be awfully wrong. Noises have woken you up each night you’ve visited; what if this happens every night? Is there something he needs urgent help with? All of these questions keep swirling in your head, you keep your hand tightly still on the doorknob, waiting for any other sign.

After a good two minutes, you hear a snore. You wait for another one to make sure that’s what it is, and sure enough, the snores keep coming. Whether or not that noise was him getting up, it sounds like Sans is back to sleep, and it seems to be enough proof that coming into his room isn’t the right idea. With a bit of nagging regret for not acting sooner, you lighten your grip on the doorknob and pull away from it, then start to make your way back downstairs.

Approaching the couch once more, you start debating if you should’ve gone into the room sooner. Sure, it sounds like he’s sleeping again, but it isn’t clear how comfortable that sleep is. Ultimately, you conclude that all these questions won’t get you closer to any answers, and that what’s done is done. Besides, there’s nothing to completely prove whatever that was was him, and you’d be playing with fire by taking that risk. You firmly plant your head back on the pillow, trying your hardest to get some peaceful sleep after that, but it doesn’t come easy. It takes another couple hours of questioning yourself before you can drift off, and before you know it, Papyrus’ alarm is going off again.

Your eyes groggily open up, knowing your shot at any more sleep is through. It’s not something you’re angry about; it’s the brothers’ house, and they’re free to wake up whenever they want. All you hope is they don’t think you had a night full of rough dreams. As expected, Papyrus’s door soon swings open, but he rushes down the stairs rather quickly, and you hope with every cell in your body he doesn’t tragically trip on the way. Thankfully enough, that doesn’t happen, as he speeds over to the couch to greet you. It almost seems like he's floating off the ground while he walks, but it's probably your head playing with you after last night... probably.

“GOOD MORNING, PROTAG. HOW’RE YOU FEELING? MY BROTHER AND I CAN TAKE CARE OF ANYTHING YOU NEED… WHENEVER HE WAKES UP, THAT IS. IF YOU’D LIKE, I CAN GO GET HIS LAZY BONES OUT OF HIS ROOM.”

“*cough*…I’m feeling better this morning, Papyrus, but thanks for asking. I dunno if there’s still bruises, but none of them sting much.” It hadn’t come to you last night, but you now realize that during all the confusion when you woke up, you didn’t feel a single thing from the incident outside. Your mind was probably too preoccupied to register any pain.

“WELL, THAT’S GOOD NEWS! IN THE MEANTIME, I, YOUR MASTER CHEF THIS MORNING AM OFF TO PREPARE SOMETHING WONDERFUL FOR THE THREE OF US.” He speeds off to the kitchen to get breakfast ready, and you swing your feet off the couch and let them hang down to the floor. Rubbing your eyes brings more of the room to focus, when you suddenly hear another door open. Sans has already come out of his room, which is in sharp contrast to how late he got up last time. It makes you doubt he got bad sleep if he’s up even sooner than before. Some things don’t change, though, like the groggy expression he’s got.

“Hey, Sans. Happy Saturday.”

“oh, hey, happy *hic* saturday to you, too.” He slugs his way down the steps and nearly trips at one point, but holds onto the railing on time. When he reaches the bottom, he makes a big stretch, despite not having any muscles to stretch out. Now that there’s more couch space, he shifts over and sits down hard by your side. The springs from the couch are loud enough for Papyrus to hear.

“GOOD MORNING, BROTHER. YOUR STORY LAST NIGHT WAS ESPECIALLY FAST AT GETTING ME TO FALL ASLEEP.”

“heh, i’m glad, bro. thought i was about to botch the part where fluffy bunny…” Sans looks at you and then covers your ears with his hands, apparently not wanting to spoil any of the story. He must have made some pun, too, because Papyrus seems to shout back, even if you can’t make out what he’s saying. Once that’s over with, the shorter skeleton takes his hands off you.

“sorry ‘bout that. i’d never live through the guilt if you heard the big surprise in fluffy bunny without hearing the full story first.”

“No worries, I appreciate that.” There’s more loud noises outside than usual; Snowdin must be busier when the weekend starts. You take a peek outside and see a bunch of kids in a big snowball fight, a little jealous that you weren’t able to have them any time of the year growing up.

“i can do the dodging part for snowball fights, but not the throwing. one of the few downsides to my otherwise perfect height.” He chuckles a bit, and his brother overhears.

“NO EXCUSES, BROTHER. I WON THE SNOWDIN SNOWBALL TOURNAMENT FOR A REASON.”

“i mean, the semifinalist dropping out helped.”

“SANS! PROTAG DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW THAT TINY DETAIL!”

“heh, i’m just messing with ya, bro. proud of you for winning.”

“WELL, THANK YOU. I KEEP PRACTICING, TOO, IN CASE ANYONE WANTS TO CHALLENGE FOR MY TITLE.” Without warning, he pulls a chunk of snow out of the freezer and chucks it at his brother. You have to fling yourself off the couch to dodge it, while Sans seems to slide over without any effort as the snow misses both of you and smacks the wall.

“DRAT. I’LL GET AT LEAST ONE OF YOU NEXT TIME.” The food finishes cooking, and the smells from Papyrus setting it out lets you and Sans know that it’s spaghetti yet again. Neither of you are that surprised as you make your way to the kitchen, Sans nearly passing out on his way up from the couch.

The three of you dig in, and it tastes about the same as last week. That oatmeal you’d had the day before was better, but you knew that was a rare treat. It’s a fairly quiet meal, between Papyrus digging into his cooking and Sans yawning a lot, probably half still in his dreams. You try your hardest to put last night aside, not wanting either of them to think you’re a worry-worm. Still feeling some soreness from last night, you decide it’s best to head out earlier than last time so you can stop by a pharmacy and grab some stuff to take care of it. With how kindly the brothers had treated you, you made sure to thank both of them for being there and the attention they gave.

“IT’S NO PROBLEM AT ALL, PROTAG. IF THOSE DINGUSES COME BY AGAIN, THEY’LL BE KINDLY INFORMED RIGHT AWAY TO NEVER RETURN. AFTER WHAT MY BROTHER DID, THOUGH, I DOUBT THEY WILL.”

“they had it coming. don’t think about it, protrag, you’ve got two fleshless people ready to stop a whole gang of jerks.” Despite him being tired, he’s still got that blunt sarcasm in his voice.

“Let me know where and when your next show is, Sans, I’ll definitely come by.”

“maybe we could get undyne to come by. no morons would get past her.”

“GOOD IDEA, BROTHER! SHE’S ENJOYING SURFACE LIFE, BUT BODYGUARDING COULD BE A FUN WAY FOR HER TO PAY A VISIT.” You aren’t sure who this Undyne is, but you don’t want them to have to make things harder for themselves.

“Haha, don’t worry about it. If this is one of your friends, we could find a chance to meet up, but it doesn’t have to be for my defense.” You zip up your hoodie and make your way to the door.

“ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND, PROTAG!”

“i’m opening up the stand tomorrow, in case you want another masterpiece.”

“I’ll be there, no doubt about that.” Some of the bruises still are a little sore from the cold air, but your thoughts are far more positive than last evening as you shut the door behind you.

* * *

The following weeks are more of the same. Sans keeps having more shows at Grillby’s and the hotel, and you go to every single one of them. A couple of them are dangerously late nights, considering your early shifts, but it doesn't matter. You’d risk less sleep to see your new friend do what he does best.

Along with his comedy shows, you manage to catch him a couple times at the hot dog stand. It usually works out that you’d make it when no one else was around, so the two of you have plenty of time to talk about whatever's on your minds, as well as a chance for him to springboard some ideas off of you before his show times. He hasn’t put any hot dogs on your head since the first time you came, but he still givse you a free one for each visit, despite your objection.

Before you know it, it’s been over a month since that first time you saw him perform at the hotel. It doesn’t hit you until now how slow things had been since you met him and his brother. You're grateful you thought to go out that fateful night and watch his show, since you may have never met him if you hadn’t.

However, there’s one nagging feeling you were getting that you couldn’t put aside. Each time you were watching the skeleton do his thing on stage or chatting with him in Hotland, something in your chest was feeling a little heavier. You were quicker to notice little quirks in his voice, or his grin when he laughed, or the texture of his hand when he’d give you a hot dog. Each time something like this happened, you tried to assure yourself that you’re both simply friends and enjoy your time together, but these extra little feelings weren’t something you could ignore.

Not wanting to jump to anything too soon, though, you kept quiet about it whenever you met up, despite a couple moments being hard not to, like that time the ketchup bottle dropped from the stand and you both grabbed for it. Maybe it’s because he always grins, but Sans seemed to not think much of it, but it got your pulse going a bit for reasons you didn’t understand.

Either way, things kept following their normal routine… until one Friday just after work. Your shift had wrapped up and you were wishing your bosses a good weekend, when you felt a text vibrating in your pocket. Once you stepped outside, you pulled it out and saw it was him.

**“heya, protag. hope the halloween stuff you had to move at work wasn’t bone-chilling.”**

**“Haha, yeah, I survived.”**

**“anyhoo, there’s something i wanted to ask.”**

**“Hm? What’s that?”** The typing icon kept going on and off for five or so minutes, so he was either trying to figure out what to say, or writing something really long. You don’t want to miss his reply, so you wait outside of your workplace in the cold, before he eventually gets back.

**“um, did you have any plans tomorrow?”** You aren’t sure where this is going.

**“No, why’s that?”**

**“well, there’s this new place in waterfall with real good grub, and i’ve wanted to go for a while, but haven’t had anyone to take. wanna come with? i don’t think they have a dress code.”**

He’s inviting you to dinner. Your hand starts shaking so hard that you almost drop the phone.


	10. Take It Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has invited you to dinner at a new place in Waterfall. It wasn't what you were expecting to hear after work, but it certainly was something for you to be excited about. Not wasting any time, you decide to ask about when to meet up, knowing that the two of you will have a great time ahead, albeit with some nerves, at least on your side.

**Chapter 10 – Take It Easy**

It takes a good minute or so for you to cool down enough to respond.

**“You wanna get food there together?”**

**“yup. my treat. you’ve known me for, like, a month now. if you’ve endured that much of my jokes, you’ve earned it.” **Before getting back, you take a minute to collect your thoughts. Sans, a good friend you’ve been feeling closer to, wants to give dinner a shot, and you didn’t even have to ask. With a shocked smile growing on your face, you begin to reply.

**“Yeah, that’d be great! What time works best with you?”**

**“eh, i’m flexible, don’t really wanna do the ‘dogs tomorrow, my buns are all worn out. is six alright?”**

**“Sounds good to me! Looking forward to it already.” **You’d sent that last part quickly, and hoped he didn’t think anything weird of it.

**“me, too. hopefully their menu isn’t anything super crazy for ya. don’t want ya noping out of monster food too soon.”** With it being the Underground, you don’t have to worry about it getting any darker than usual when it’s later, but standing outside the store isn’t how you wanted to spend your evening, so you start to make your way back to your apartment.

Inviting Sans somewhere was something you’d been thinking about for some time. There were nice places in New Home you could’ve gone together, but he’d said he’s not as much of a city person, and the thought of asking made you rather nervous, in case monster customs are any different. Seeing how casually he asked relieved a lot of that worry. Maybe some later day, when you think your new friend’s bones would be less rattled by the idea, you’ll offer something from your city, but it can wait.

Once you make it back to your room, your mind starts running through how to prepare for the dinner, despite it still being a day away. Sans said to not worry about what to wear, so you decide to wait until tomorrow to figure that out, but in the meantime, you pull a brush out so you remember to use it before you head out. Along with that, you pull out your freshest toothpaste, in case breath’s something skeletons care about.

The rest of the night is rather uneventful. Wanting to take things easy before the big evening tomorrow, you keep to yourself and make sure to get a good night of rest. Despite the nerves, the thought of the relaxed time you’ll spend together tomorrow lets you fall asleep quickly, and before you know it, it’s the morning.

In true Sans fashion, you don’t pull yourself out of bed for a while. There wasn’t anything you had planned until the dinner, so some extra shut-eye couldn’t hurt. When you do eventually start for the day, you pull your phone off your dresser and are surprised to see that he’d already left you a text. You might’ve actually out-lazed him today.

**“heya, protag. ready for an intense, no holds barred meal?” **You’re not there with him yet, but you can practically feel the wink behind his text. Fumbling around with your device, you eventually get ahold of it and let him know how you feel.

**“Yep, I’m ready for any challenge.”**

**“cool, if i get anything spicy, i might have to let ya try some. just don’t sue me when your tongue burns.”** You’d get back at him and say you’re sure you could handle it, but you’ve admittedly got no clue what kind of beast spice on monster food could be.

Since Sans didn’t want you to overdress, after looking into your closet, you decide to wear the nice black hoodie you had the first time you watched one of his shows at the hotel. Some dark jeans and a pair of boots complete the look; Waterfall’s pretty wet, anyway, so the boots should help. You were happy with how it was all coming together; casual enough for Sans to like it, but with a bit of style, too.

Most of the day’s spent thinking about the evening, despite you reassuring yourself that Sans would want worrying to be the last thing you do. With nothing else in mind, you take the time to touch up on your resume for later job shots, as the positivity from what’s ahead made you feel better about your writing. The time slowly passes, but eventually, the clock hits five, and it feels like the right point to get moving. After giving your hair another brush and checking your clothes for any marks, you locked up the apartment and began to head out.

It’s a busier time of day, so the walkways are packed. It wouldn’t be worth risking letting that slow you up, so you decide on another ride with the Riverperson. You nearly got elbowed a couple times on the way, but it’s not long before you arrive at the Hotland station. After the usual remarks, you’re both on your way.

“Dates. I wonder how they work. I think mine’s already passed.” At first, that simply sounds like gibberish, but you then realize the Riverperson somehow knew what you were going for. It’s not a date, though, you’re just getting together for some food… yes, exactly, that’s all you’ve been referring to it as. No need to risk getting Sans all junior jumbled.

Either way, you say nothing, thinking they might not let you ride with them anymore if you ask into how their predictions work. Once you step off in Waterfall, you check your phone for the time and see that you still have half an hour to spare, but realize that you never asked Sans where exactly to meet up. You shoot him a text to ask, and he says to stay where you got off.

**“i’ll be there in a few minutes. been debating all day what shade o’ pink to wear for my slippers.”**

**“You’ve got more than one?”**

**“yup. surprised no one notices.” **With nothing else to do, you stand around in the musty air for a bit, getting a big smell of the river water every time you breathe in. After enough standing around and thumb-twiddling, you can see the skeleton coming from around the corner. As expected, he’s got the same outfit as always, but when you glimpse down at his slippers, they are a little darker than usual. It could either be from getting wet or the shade he chose, but either way, you appreciate the slight change for today.

“Hey, Sans! Thanks again for inviting me today.” It suddenly hits you that you didn’t bring anything with you to show your gratitude, but he didn’t bring anything either, so it should be fine.

“heya, no prob. haven’t tried this place, so we’ll see if it’s any juicier here than my ‘dogs. they’re some barking competition for any newcomers.”

“Heh, we sure will. Where is it from here, though?”

“oh, about an hour’s hike east.”

“A-an hour?”

“yup.”

“I don’t wanna, like, push any buttons, since I was the one invited and all, but how’re we gonna get there?”

“don’t get your hoodie strings in a knot, i had a plan for this. take my hand for a moment.” He reaches out his boney right hand, not covered by a mitten today, and you take it. You aren’t sure what this is about yet, but something about the coolness of his palm and fingers is oddly calming.

“i hope ya like the color blue.” Before you can ask what that means, there’s a sudden flash of blue that surrounds the two of you, and then a second of blackness and silence. Another flash then follows, and just like that, all the color’s over. You swing your head all around and see that you’re still in Waterfall, but now a completely different section.

“…How’d you do that?”

“no idea, actually. i was born knowing that. wonder how i popped in front of you the day those morons came by?” With everything going on that evening, you hadn’t given that thought, but now it made sense.

“anyhoo, we’re here.” Despite him saying that, you don’t see any signs or doors around that would make it seem like there’s a restaurant. Sans notices your confusion.

“oh, yeah, never told you it’s a secret place. you can only find out about it from word of mouth, hole, or whatever people talk from.” There’s a little waterfall and pond placed by where the two of you landed, and he cautiously walks around it to get behind. He pounds on the wall behind the waterfall three times, and then a piece of it in the shape of a door lowers. The Underground will never cease to have its surprises.

“ya ready, protag?” Usually, the kind of darkness that was coming from the space would be concerning, but you trust Sans.

“Sure am!” You follow Sans into the door shape as the world behind you suddenly becomes the last thing on your mind.

You’re led into an eatery that’s dimly lit by blue flames. All of the walls are made of the natural stone, but they’re clean enough to feel at home here. It’s styled a bit like a diner, but more high-end. Each open table already has some plates with neatly-folded napkins sitting on top of them, as well as a little candle with a blue flame to add to the ambience. It’s fairly crowded today, but there’s enough free tables for two to not have to wait. A living, breathing pillar of slime with a single eye on top notices you and Sans at the entrance, and directs you to a table by one of the walls, leaving a faint green trail as the two of you follow. The skeleton pulls a seat out for you, and you quickly sit down, feeling some building pressure in your legs from all the walking.

_Pffffflrlrlrlrt._

Sans had gotten you again. Somehow while pulling out the seat, he’d snuck out a whoopee cushion without you noticing. You looked around to see if anyone else paid attention, but everyone seemed too focused on their guests and food to either hear it or care.

“Sans, you little-” The smile on his face cut you off.

“hey, even if this place isn’t grillby’s, i’m still gonna be me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t ask for anything different.” The slime waiter stands by without reacting to any of this. He welcomes you both to the place, which is simply called the Dip, and asks if you’d like any drinks. Not wanting to go overboard with something pricey, you order a soda, and Sans asks if they have any extra ketchup bottles. On the surface, just about anyone would laugh at that like it’s a joke, but the waiter politely said they did and walked off.

“Forgot how much you like that stuff.”

“hey, it’s made of vegetables. you can’t say i’m not being healthy.”

“It’s not made of fruits?”

“oh, yeah, forgot that humans debate that. it’s a veggie, our royal scientists figured out decades ago. they really shouldn’t get that squashed up over it.”

You decide to go with what Sans is saying and leave it aside. Maybe the tomatoes down here are different or something. Regardless, you both quietly sit at the table for a minute, not really sure what to talk about first.

“So, um… how’d you find out about this place?”

“one of grillby’s regs. they got drunk one night and somehow wandered out this far with their hands on the wall, and accidentally fell right through. suppose it broke through whatever issues they had goin’ on, cause they were brighter than the torches here the next day, goin’ off about all of it.”

“Interesting. Glad they weren’t hurt, and I guess it ended up being for the best they found this place.” You hope that didn’t come off as snobbish.

“i feel kinda bad for them, they’ve been going to grillby’s each night as long as i can remember. i think they’re still waiting for that dork to fall into their life. everyone deserves someone to play nerd tennis with some day.” The waiter comes back with your soda, filled with ice from the sparkling waters, and a brand new ketchup bottle for Sans. He then asks what you would both like to have to eat, so you look over the menu.

Since Sans had invited you, you figured he was the one paying, so you didn’t want to order anything too outrageous. There’s a crab cake sandwich on the menu, and while that’s usually something you like, the fact that you’ve seen a couple crab monsters in New Home before would make that too uncomfortable. Ultimately, you decide on a burger with a house sauce that sounds like a solid blend of flavors.

“oh, hey, that’s what i was gonna get, too. a double order-a burg, please.” You’re surprised; the menu’s not all that small, but he chose the same thing you wanted, without any hints. Sans asks for it to be cooked medium-rare, and you ask for medium, and with that, the waiter takes the menus and walks off to give the order to the kitchen. Hopefully when they come back, they’ll have a clean way to carry it.

“i’d rather have some good ol’ burg than something fancy tonight, anyway. don’t think you wanted to see a review tonight like one from one-a those blurry tv channels.”

“Same. Food should be fun, as long as the art palate’s not calling.” You take a sip of the soda, and it’s a delectably smooth taste. The ice from Waterfall’s waters must help the flavor. Sans twists the top of the ketchup bottle open and takes a sip, but with polite manners. Like the other times, it simply passes through his teeth, and while you may usually think of it as impolite to watch, there isn’t really anything else to look at, anyway.

“good texture. i give it nine tomatoes out of ten. wanna try some?” He gently pushes the bottle over to your side of the table.

Not wanting to let your friend down, and also figuring that if no one judged Sans for drinking the ketchup, they wouldn’t judge you, either, you put the bottle up to your mouth and take your own sip. It’s your first time trying something like this, so you aren’t quite sure what to expect, but it’s actually fairly good. To you, it tastes like one of those vegetable drink mixes, but sweeter. As you set the bottle down, you can see Sans proudly watching from the other side of the table.

“congratulations on your first ketchup gulp. did it land in the red?”

“As a matter of fact, it was better. I’ll have to try that again on my own some time.” A bit of ketchup’s coated over a front tooth, so you work it off with your tongue, making Sans chuckle a bit. You’re admittedly itching for another sip, but you don’t want to have too much of his drink, so you slide it back to him. While your soda’s still good, it’s slightly less appealing after what you just tasted.

“so, protag. what exactly made ya wanna move you and that hair of yours down here?”

“Sans, my hair comes with me wherever I go. It doesn’t make its own choices, aside from the bed head in the morning.”

“oh. i wouldn’t know.” Seemingly on cue, he pulls a comb out of his pocket and starts brushing the barren top of his skull. If he wasn’t smiling, you’d swear it looks nothing but uncomfortable.

“…Either way, I won’t **brush** over your question any more. Surface life was simply getting too dull and negative around. The places I’d go to didn’t have spirit anymore, and it felt like my peers up there didn’t want to put attention into things. It’s hard to put to words well.” Sans laughs a bit from your pun, before getting his focus back together.

“no, no, that all makes sense. i’d never wanna be somewhere dull and in the dumps. now, the dump down the road’s another story, but yours means more right now.” Sans takes another sip from his bottle, without a single drip falling off his mouth, and he keeps relaxed, yet engaged eye contact.

“ya weren’t havin’ any fun up there, then?”

“I wasn’t. Time’s limited, so I really didn’t want it to be surrounded by people and places that’d shown no signs of not being sour. Sorry if this isn’t the happiest thing to bring up, though, I don’t wanna stick a knife into our dinner together.”

“nah, i feel ya. i got the same way when i lived up there. friendos liked it, but it wasn’t the cozy zone for me or my brother. guess our bones weren’t feelin’ up to the sunlight.”

“Mmm, yeah, I figured you would’ve been up there for at least some time, like when everyone moved outta here, before you and your brother wanted to come back. Grateful everything’s stayed in such great condition.”

“oh, yeah, guess you never heard ‘bout when brick number 8392 fell outta a wall one day. instant shock and terror.”

“Geez. _The_ brick number 8392? I can practically hear the screaming headlines.” You’ve honestly got no idea how much this brick does or doesn’t mean, but you go with it.

“yup. the one and only. you ain’t wrong, though, it’s all still real nice. you shoulda seen how frozen solid with joy i was when i saw the snow still on my station.”

“Glad that didn’t chill any of your hopes. It’s all been so nice to discover down here, I haven’t had all the experiences like you and your brother must have. Haven’t regretted my choice a single moment.” You’re not counting the fleeting moment during that encounter a few weeks ago; as soon as it started, Sans was there to help you, and being treated to the best oatmeal of your life after sure helped manners.

“glad to hear the flesh is feelin’ fine. with how much some humans have been stinkers about us bein’ around, it’s real neat seeing ya give them the foot and live around monsterkind instead.”

“Oh, absolutely. The compassion you all show for each other’s something lots of humans can only dream to be around. Their loss for not wanting to try the monster side of the coin.”

“especially when that coin’s a gleaming g. paper money’s a real pain-per.”

“Yeah, I’m not all that up-cent about leaving that behind.”

“heheh, ya got me there.” Feeling all smiles, the two of you take a relieved breath, failing to realize the dorky grins you’re both holding.

“I really do appreciate you taking me somewhere this nice. I’ve still got lots to learn about monster culture, but this is a quality _dip_ into something new. Why’d you choose me, though, instead of someone like your brother?”

“he already had plans for the evening, but you were my first choice, anyway.”

“I was?” Perhaps you were overthinking things, but you hoped he wouldn’t see anything you were saying as harsh.

“yup. like ya said, you’ve got lots to see, and as a totally still hired sentry, it feels nice getting to show you around the ropes. Being a pun-ching bag’s the only fee i ask for.” Before you’re able to rally another joke back, the food arrives, with the waiter fortunately keeping a towel wrapped around their front. Green goo wouldn’t have been an ideal burger topping. Monster cooking must be a lot quicker than the surface. The waiter makes sure to give the right burger to each of you, with the time cooked being different, as you look down at your plate. It’s a decent size and steaming hot, which is a trend you’ve seen in other monster food.

“dig in, protag.” Sans takes his first ‘bite’ of his burger, as you can hear chewing noises, despite his always closed mouth. He seems to be enjoying it, so you join in and take a first bite of your own, and immediately have no regrets with your choice. That sauce you were interested in hits the spot, as it has just the right amount of sweetness and savory taste mixed together. Keeping manners in check, you rub around your mouth with you napkin after that initial mouthful.

“This stuff’s great. Enjoying yours?” Sans gives a little nod of approval, likely due to his mouth being full, and the innocence of his little movement genuinely strikes you a bit. There’s definitely plenty of compassion behind his laughter ammunition. The two of you smile away as you work away at your food, the smells and flavors making it hard to take breaks to talk. About halfway through, you set the burger down to take a drink, unintentionally at the same time Sans does. It’s just a little thing, but you both have to laugh a bit from the timing before getting back to your eating. Before you know it, you’re taking your last bite, and Sans is just finishing up his.

“Wow, that was excellent.” Sans wraps up his burger, too, with a little bit of sauce remaining on his face.

“yeah, it sure was. that’s the best burg i’ve had in a long time.” Just as he says that, a song starts playing over the restaurant’s radio. It’s a surface song that you’ve known for a long while.

(<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4v8KEbQA8kw>)

“oh, look, one of my favorites. my bro and i have listened to it for years.”

“Even before the Barrier broke?”

“yeah, we found an old record in that dump one day. yeah, we used to just find human stuff in the dump and bring it home. surface childhood should make that a bigger deal, not something to feel down in the dumps about. we cleaned it up with some snow, which might’ve not been the best idea, but we got it to work.” The two of you sit back and take the time to follow the lyrics.

“People on the surface have been listening to this one since long before I was born. It’s a classic.”

“felt a lot better about some things after findin’ it. meant there’s humans that think like me and don’t want to take everything all so seriously. what’s the point of goin’ through your day if you’re not enjoying the flow and your buds? i didn’t understand the truck part ‘til i got to the surface, though. who knew people drove things that ya load stuff on the back of?” Aside from the truck, he was practically speaking your mind. It isn’t until the song ends that you both realize the bill’s been left on your table.

“oh, whoops. taking it easy doesn’t mean i can keep these people from gettin’ their dough.” He pulls some G out of his pocket, possibly from hot dog sales, and sets it by the bill, adding a bit extra for a tip. For his signature, all he does is write his name in lowercase print. You admire his integrity for sticking to his word on things not having to be all that serious.

“welp, that was a nice time. wanna dip outta the dip?” You agree to get moving, and head back towards the space where the door forms. As you prepare to step back out into Waterfall, you look back and take in the place you’d just gotten your meal, knowing it’s somewhere you’ll want to come back to. After taking some steps to avoid the falls by the entrance, you and Sans are both back on dry land.

“Had a great evening there, Sans. Can’t thank you enough for inviting me.”

“i’ve gotta be the one thanking you for putting up with me, protag. you didn’t run off when i got you with my whoopee cushion... again. i made a pattern outta that, and ya still fell for it.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t remember from last time. Guess you win.” As you finished your sentence, though, Sans did something you hadn’t been expecting at all: he slowly walked close and wrapped his arms around you. He’s about a head shorter than you, so he only reaches up to your ribs, but you slowly return the hug back.

“i expect a tip for this.” You’ve known Sans for long enough by now to not take that seriously, and just laugh a bit in return. Without giving an explanation for his hugging, he lets go.

“better get going back to my place. papyrus is gonna want his story if he’s home now, and all that.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Have a safe trip home, Sans.”

“eh, i’ll just zap back. i’ll be there in a few seconds.” You’d nearly forgotten about that power of his.

“It’s gotta be nice being able to that.”

“i don’t do it all the time, but it’s nice when i’ve gotta get somewhere quick. if papyrus doesn’t get his story, i’m sure you’ll be hearing from me ‘bout it.” He steps back to get ready to warp.

“see ya soon, protag. take it easy, ‘n all that cheese.” You share a smile as he closes his eyes to warp back to his house, leaving your thoughts and the humid air as your only company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this being a couple days late! It's been a busy week, and I didn't want to split this chapter up, so it took longer than I'd been expecting. The upcoming week is going to be a busy one as well, so instead of this upcoming Sunday, my plan is to upload the next chapter the following Sunday. Sorry for the change of plans, but I want to make sure I'm happy with all that I'm uploading. Thank you for your understanding and patience!


	11. Overtime Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans had an excellent time at the 'date' at the Dip. Through a healthy night of talk and great food, you could feel your bond with him drawing a little closer. There's still other subject matters you have to turn your attention to, though. Halloween's coming, and when holidays arrive, the retail world provides.

**Chapter 11 – Overtime Pay**

The walk back to the apartment is uneventful, aside from the occasional burp along the way from the burger. On the boat ride, the Riverperson makes some odd remark about mouths, but you’re thinking back to the evening too much to really pay attention.

Of all the things in your mind, the hug is the part that’s sticking the most. It came as a complete surprise, so he must have greatly enjoyed the night, you tell yourself. You’d tried your best to keep him knowing the two of you could easily talk between one another in an environment like that, and it seemed like it had worked.

Swinging the door open, you wonder how quick Sans had managed to zip back to his house. Either by accident or as a joke, he left you at the Dip without taking you back to the river, but fortunately, he was joking about the hour-long part. You had found your way back to the boat after a good fifteen minutes or so. Still, zapping along Waterfall with him was certainly an unusual feeling, but one you were grateful he had. It allowed him to stand up for you that evening in Snowdin a while ago, and if you ever go on an outing like this again, which you hope you do, it wouldn’t be trouble at all.

Following the dinner, the work week feels pretty similar to the past few. With Halloween coming up, there was some more to move around the building than usual, to prepare for the additional shopping rush as the holiday came closer. To keep up with it, your managers asked if you could stay longer than usual for most of the days. You agreed to it, since the overtime pay was always a nice addition, but it meant less time to visit the skeletons, or even snag dinner that wasn’t the noodles from the apartment. Regardless, you understand the importance of the money, and keep with it.

Eventually, Friday approaches, and you can take relief in knowing the work, at least for now, would almost be finished. Before you could put it to bed, though, you had today to get through. The walk to work was slower than usual, since some guy who referred to himself as Jerry meandered along at little to no pace, as you overheard him complain about every little thing he’d come by.

Despite that, a jog towards the end got you there with a minute to spare, as you punched in for the day. Your manager today, who you swore you’d once seen in Snowdin, chucking huge cubes of ice into the river, said that there were already enough people moving stuff in the back, so he asked if you could stock some things on the store racks. It sounded like a good change of pace, so you agreed and snagged some boxes to start emptying.

You spent your morning stacking costumes, decorations, and other holiday things around the front walking aisles of the store, which would hopefully entice more people to come in when it opens up. There’s designated places where items have to go, but the store has enough trust in you to let you be a little creative with it, so you’re allowed to set your favorites in front. Monster costumes aren’t the same as ones on the surface; they’re all hand crafted, and because of the diversity monsters already have, a lot of them are based on everyday pieces of life. One is a giant snow dodecahedron cautiously folded from layers of paper, while another is this giant cup of coffee.

Before you know it, it’s time for your lunch break, and you head to the break room feeling proud of your work so far. You’d seen some people come by and grab the items you’d set up front, so your choices must have been strong enough. The food you brought for yourself is about the same as it was for the rest of the week, so you meal goes on uneventfully before you snag some more boxes to bring to the aisles.

However, when you get to the front, a certain someone’s standing where you were setting up decorations earlier that completely catches you by surprise: It’s Sans, there in the ‘flesh’, apparently looking for some stuff to snag. The loud sounds from your work shoes catch his attention, as he turns towards you.

“oh, hey, protag. long time no see.” If it was someone else, that could seem rude after just a week away, but his smile and wink quickly put off any thoughts like that. There is one thing that seems different, though: there’s an unusual amount of darkness under his eyes. You aren’t sure what the cause is, since skeletons don’t work the same as humans, but your first impression is some sort of lack of energy. Not wanting to come off as rude, you decide to not bring it up.

“Hey, Sans! What brings you out here?”

“my favorite holiday. paps and i are gonna try to throw a big halloween party, and he asked me to go buy some stuff. it’s gonna be great, as long as we don’t burn the house down in the process.”

“Sounds great! There weren’t any places closer to home, though? I know it’s easy for you to get here, but - ow – I’d have thought there’d be somewhere closer.” The first costume you pulled out of the box was unexpectedly heavy, but you managed to hang it up.

“perhaps, but it’s better getting to see a friend. i’d lend a hand with those, but i don’t want your boss to think i’m gonna run off with something and get ya fired.”

“No worries, I appreciate the offer. That party sounds like a blast, could let out the wilder side of town.”

“you got it. the peace is nice, but they can’t all be quiet like that forever. i was gonna mail you an invitation, but i guess i spoiled my own surprise. whoops.” You make sure he knows the thought’s what counts.

“So, you wanted me to come over for it?”

“yup. don’t have any other humans coming over, and town could like to get to know ya. besides, who doesn’t like a good helping of eyeball punch? it’s this spooky drink my bro’s making.”

“I’d love to go! I’m sure it’ll chill me to the bone.” You hope he appreciated your attempt at a pun, and while it was nothing original, it seems to bring a little more energy to his face.

“i’ll send the card, anyway. you’ll get the chance to see my amazing artwork.” You can only imagine what that’s gonna look like.

“What stuff were you looking for today?”

“eh, the usual. spider webs, the eyes for that drink, the indoor bonfire. nothing too out of the ordinary.

“…Indoor bonfire?”

“oh, yeah, you’ve probably never been to a monster halloween party. to add to the general spookiness, we take a bonfire, surround it with whatever bricks we can, and set it off inside. most of our houses are built to not get taken out by these things, but it happens every now and then. wasn’t joking about not wanting to burn our place to the ground."

“Um… come to think of it, I think we have something like that in the back-right corner. Sounds really risky, but it’s not my place to judge what monsters like to do.” You point in the direction of the store where the fire materials are kept, and he thanks you and heads that way. If it was a quieter day, you’d follow him there, but you don’t want it to seem like you’re distracted, so you keep filling up shelves and wait for him to swing back. It doesn’t take long for him to make it back to the front with the stuff he needed, but his arms are stuffed, and there’s no way he could still grab the decorations he wanted. Immediately, you let him know you’ll grab a cart for him to take.

“eh, this’ll be fine. i need to improve my hotdog stacking ability anyway, so carrying some stuff on my head could help.” Regardless, you insist on getting the cart, and set the box down to go get one. The first one has a stuck wheel, of course, but the second one’s good enough. You wheel it back to where he’s standing, and he does seem to appreciate the extra room for his items.

“thanks, buddyo. if i dropped the eyeballs along the way, my brother’s creation wouldn’t be right, and i’d probably traumatize some kid if they saw eyes rolling down the street. not a good thing to do.” The two of you laugh, and Sans glimpses at the clock by the door.

“oh, crud, it’s already almost three. the party’s a week away, but paps is being really proactive about it. if you see any wild decorations there, they’re probably from him, not me.”

“I’m sure I’ll like the stuff you’ve got, too. I’d say to not mix up any of your own eyes in the bowl, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.

“yeah, heaven forbid someone found a floating pupil in their drink. anyway, i better get moving. see ya soon, protag, thanks again for your help. i appreciate the arm and leg you’ve lent me.” He holds up the fake arm and leg that he’s about to purchase before making his way to the checkout. With his short size, he has to reach up a bit to grasp the cart handle, and you can’t help but find yourself thinking it’s a little adorable to watch. This time, there isn’t anything in your subconsciousness telling you to stop, for what that’s worth.

Once his order’s completed, you exchange a little wave before he goes on his way. For a moment, his head seems to droop down as he approaches the door before it perks back up.

There’s only a couple hours now before the shift’s finished. You get back to work, pleased with the amount of shoppers that’re choosing the items you displayed. Naturally, your mind often goes back to getting to see your likely closest friend again, but like he said, he didn’t want you getting fired, so you continue to do your best. It isn’t long before your shift’s done for the day, and your boss lets you know you’re getting an additional pay raise for the day for the sales you were drawing. Thanking them, you punched out and made your way back to the apartment.

Sans was right about you never being to a monster party, let alone a Halloween one. If an indoor bonfire is something typical, you can’t help but imagine what something out of the ordinary looks like. Not that you’re complaining, or anything along those lines. Sans was kind enough to invite you from out of town, and you can’t hold yourself to an opinion on a monster party until you experience one yourself, so why not?

The only thing still nagging away was the way he came into the building. When you’d stayed at his place that pair of nights a while ago, he’d looked fairly sluggish coming down the stairs. That was in the morning, though, so it’s to be expected. This time, though, it was in the midst of the afternoon. There was the chance, of course, that he’d just decided to sleep in for the longest time, but it didn’t seem like something his brother would have wanted. You hope that he’s been healthy, but ultimately, you understand it’s not something to mention unless things start to appear greatly out of hand.

* * *

The next morning, after your breakfast and coffee, you walk outside of your apartment room to see if you had received any mail. Surely enough, there’s a little envelope sitting in the corner, and you pull it out. Underground mail delivers much faster than on the surface, likely from the smaller population making it take less steps. Your address is scribbled in lowercase onto the front, so the postal service must be more flexible, too. Bringing it inside, you tear the envelope off and toss it in the recycling before giving it a read. For some reason, Sans decided to use a postcard of Snowdin, likely due to your distance. You chuckle from the sight of it before reading on.

_“wild party at the skeletons’ house in snowdin for halloween. loss of hair or skin from injury is hopefully not to be expected. starts at 9. show up or forever hold your peace… of the pumpkin dish my bro’s making.”_ That must be the part Sans wrote for everyone, cause it’s slightly neater than the note that’s written below.

_“protag, would you be down for swinging by at 8 to help set some things up? the others would probably text everyone and spoil what the decorations are, and i know enough surface movies have been spoiled for you to make you hate that sort of thing.”_ He’s right: no matter what changes on the surface, there’s always humans that strive to spoil movies for others. Bringing the invitation over to the calendar on the fridge, you mark down the time, not wanting to miss the chance to watch your friend decorate… or, ahem, help them decorate. That’s what you meant to think. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the additional wait for this chapter! I should be able to go back to uploading chapters each Sunday now, but if anything comes up, I'll make an announcement as needed.


	12. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've been invited to Sans and Papyrus' Halloween party, and to top it off, you've been asked to come early to help set up. After being away from Snowdin for a while, you've been looking forward to the chance to see it again, and some time with the skeletons before the guests arrive shouldn't hurt one bit. Once that's taken care of, the extravagance of a monster Halloween party will come to view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that your name goes wherever ‘Protag’ is!

**Chapter 12 - Halloween**

Having the invitation on your fridge gave you a motivational boost each morning you’d get up for work. With the demand for party decorations being higher than ever, there wasn’t any time to visit Snowdin during the week. You hadn’t even had the previous weekend off, but with nothing else going on and the pay bonus on top of it, it was worth the extra effort.

Either way, you press through the week, now without any additional skeleton sightings. You text Sans a couple times, asking what the setup was going to look like, but all he would say was, **“you really want me to spoil the totally safe surprise?”** After learning about the bon fires, you figure his definition of safe is different than yours, or perhaps he’s simply pulling your leg, but you decide to not ask further into it.

There’s some days they have you in the back, while others keep you stocking the shelves again. While it’s not what you usually do, it makes you hopeful that you’ll see Sans or Papyrus looking for stuff. It doesn’t happen, but dreams can be dreams.

Halloween itself is very quiet at the store. On the surface, people would usually be frantically trying to get their last items on the day itself, but it seems like most of the monsters took care of it already and were setting up their places of living. Even heading to the store in the morning, you could see them hard at work outside, with a mix of decorations you’re used to, and the more unusual items from the store, like the dangling snow dodecahedrons.

With the shift itself not having much going on, you spend the time moving boxes deciding how you’ll reveal your own costume. While it could be fun surprising the skeletons by wearing it on your way there to help set the party up, the ambience once everything’s ready may make the little reveal snazzier. That ends up being what you plan on doing, so you make a mental note to get the costume in a bag later and save it for when whatever shenanigans Sans and Papyrus have up their sleeves begin.

The lack of a crowd means you don’t have to do any overtime work today, so you zip your way back to the apartment to start getting things ready. As you find the costume and slip it into the bag, you’re certain it’s gonna knock the socks off of anyone that sees it. Feeling that extra boost of confidence, you finish packing it up and are about to check what the weather will be like for the weekend, before it hits you that there’s no unusual weather patterns down here to keep up with. The simplicity of some parts of life in the Underground is something that’ll take some getting used to. You’re curious about what some of the rest of the city looks like for the evening, so you grab the bag and head out early to look around the streets.

While you aren’t sure exactly how monsters learned about Halloween, you can tell they sure know how to live it up. Everyone you pass by seems to be talking about it, and it does your heart good to see some humans mixed in with them as well, chatting as equals. They seem to have blended into the culture as well, as the few other apartments that have humans in them are just as spruced up. You’re quickly lost in the sites before eventually checking the time and realizing it’s just past seven. It’s time to head to Snowdin.

The Riverperson, oddly enough, has a little witch hat on the headpiece of their robe. They’d never brought anything up about holidays or celebration, but it looks like even out on a distant river alone, monsters think to have some festive spirit. The boat even makes some creaking noises on the way, and while this would typically be something to worry about, or perhaps from your excitement for the party, you pass it off as part of the Halloween theming.

“Tra la la. Try to pretend there’s a full moon tonight. Tra la la.” With the Underground not having any exposure to the sun and moon, it wasn’t clear how full the moon was tonight, but like the Riverperson said, it’s more fun to think it’s full, anyway. The boat continues its creaking, but fortunately, as soon as you start to have some concern over it, it reaches the Snowdin station. Grabbing your bag again, you enter the town and are immersed into even more spirit of the holiday. The word ‘spirit’ makes you think of a joke opportunity for the house later.

The usual tranquility of the town has been replaced with a spooky aura, as there isn’t a single house without something donning the front. Even the pub and the library have taken part, with the Grillby’s sign now in a scratched font, and the Librarby now being correctly spelled as Library. How horrifying.

As much as you’d like to look around and enjoy the sights, Sans and Papyrus have work to be done with you, and you don’t want to leave them hanging. Turning towards the house, you knock on the front door, fully expecting one of them to try to get you with their costume design. However, when Sans opens the door from the other side, he’s wearing the same outfit he always does. He must not want to spoil the surprise yet, like you’d been planning.

“heyo, protag. thanks for swinging by early. another pair of hands always helps.” Suddenly, he pulls a rubber hand out of his hoodie and tosses it at you. It looks very realistic, so you flinch around for a moment before it clicks that Sans wouldn’t keep a human hand laying around in his house.

“Welp, you got me. Should’ve known beforehand that flesh wouldn’t blend in with your brother’s bone collection, anyway.”

“yeah, i don’t think he’d like that. come in and see what he’s put up so far.” You step into the house, and Papyrus swings by and enthusiastically greets you.

“GOOD EVENING, PROTAG! I’M GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT TO THIS SPOOKY SPECTACULAR, COURTESY OF MYSELF AND MY BROTHER! CARE FOR SOME PUNCH?” He held up a bowl that was resting by the door, filled with the eyeball punch that Sans had brought up. You’re happy to see that they made it and didn’t roll away and traumatize any children, like Sans had ‘worried’ about.

“Nice choice for the red. Should chill the guests down to the veins.”

“OH, NO, I HOPE MY BROTHER’S NOT GIVING YOU INSIDE INFORMATION ON HIS PUNS. HE NEEDS TO SAVE THEM FOR HIS SHOWS, ANYWAY. YOU MAKE A GOOD POINT ABOUT THE RED PUNCH, THOUGH. SHOULD BE EXTRA SPOOK-TACULAR. NYEH HEH HEH!” Sans laughs along, clearly proud of whenever his brother joins in with puns, too.

“COME ALONG, PROTAG. WE’VE ONLY GOT AN HOUR TO SPARE, SO YOUR AID IN THE DECORATIONS WILL BE MOST HELPFUL!” He opens up the closet, and some webs and gag decorations pop out.

“FEEL FREE TO SET THESE UP HOWEVER YOU WISH. A MIX OF HUMAN AND SKELETON IDEAS SHOULD CREATE THE PERFECT DESIGN!”

“gee, bro, sounds like an easy way to not make a plan. maybe i’m the one rubbing off of ya.” He winks.

“SANS! DO NOT ACCUSE ME OF FORGETTING TO PLAN OUT THIS IMPORTANT DAY! HALLOWEEN ONLY COMES ONCE A YEAR, AND I AM **NOT** LETTING IT GO TO WASTE.”

“just pulling your leg, bro. you’re more creative with all this than i woulda been.” You take some of the webs, and figure they’d look good along the railing of the steps. Pressing it up towards one, you realize you forgot to grab anything to make the web stick, before it clings to the railing on its own. In the back of your mind, you hope whoever invented such an idea got a hefty raise for it.

While you use this to your advantage and find creative ways to hang the webs along the railing and walls, Sans is taking that rubber hand he threw at you and sticking it between the cushions of the couch. It’s a worthy design choice. He’s also put a little hat on Rocko, who’s gotten chocolates instead of sprinkles today for the special occasion. Meanwhile, Papyrus is replacing every light in the house with orange ones, as well as covering the TV with what looked like some sort of box-shaped coffin. You hoped for his and Sans’ sake that it wouldn't ruin the screen.

“what’s the bag for, protag? is your costume an abductor?”

“Good guess, but no. You’re gonna have to wait and see.”

“same with mine. not even my bro knows it yet. you’re gonna be mortified for weeks.”

“OH, THAT MAY BE WHAT YOU THINK, BROTHER, BUT I HAVE SOMETHING EXTRA SPECIAL UP MY SLEEVE! I’VE PRACTICED MY CHARACTER’S MOVEMENTS AND PERSONALITY DOWN TO THE LAST FINGER.”

“guess it’s for protag to decide. we can probably trust him to be unbiased.” The clock gets closer to nine, as the remaining decorations are being placed around the house. Sans realizes the guests will likely be swinging by in a few minutes.

“that should be enough stuff. let’s all go throw our costumes on. i expect nothing but fear and trembling from you two after you see mine."

“YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO COWER IN FEAR, BROTHER? I WILL BE PREPARED FOR YOUR WORST!” He holds a dramatic pose as his cape seems to blow on its own.

“you really want me to use…” He looks towards you. “…**that** scene from fluffy bunny to prove my point?”

“OH, NO! NOT THAT ONE!” Whatever the scene is that Sans is talking about, Papyrus seems to remember it very clearly, as he scurries away to his room without another word.

“almost spoiled that part for you. that would’ve been the worst. i’m gonna go put my stuff on now. we’ll see who’s more bone-chilling.” It’s the perfect time for that joke you thought of earlier.

“It’s not really a competition for me. As long as everyone’s in good spirits, we all win.” That draws a hefty laugh out of the shorter skeleton.

“aha, you got me there. i get prouder of ya every time.” He goes off to his room to change, and you step into the bathroom. When you step in, though, you feel something squishy on your left foot. Looking down, there’s a grotesque model of a squid pressed up on your heel. It wouldn’t take three guesses to figure out who was responsible for that one. Rubbing your foot on the mat to clean it off, you get your costume on, with none of it being that hard to get ready. While you’re taking care of it, you can hear guests already entering the house, despite no one being there to greet them. Sans and Papyrus must have wanted to make a big entrance with their costumes, and consequently, you would be, too.

You hear a door opening above you, and as you finish up getting your costume on, you figure that’s your cue to introduce yourself. Not wanting to take away Papyrus’s spotlight, you leave the bathroom and head into the living room, not looking around yet at the assortment of the monsters mingling around. The taller skeleton is standing in front of the door to his room, his costume complete.

He’s dressed as C3PO from the Star Wars series, which he must have taken a liking to during his time on the surface. It was no lie of him to say he had every detail down; there isn’t an inch of his boney body that isn’t coated with gold. His arms and legs have all the right patterns, and he’s got the glowing eyes on his head. The only difference is the shape of the head, which had to be rearranged for his skull, but that wasn’t a problem. If anything, it gave it that little bit of Papyrus touch. He cleared his throat and spoke in an astonishingly close voice to the real deal.

“GREETINGS. I AM C3PO, HUMAN AND MONSTER-CYBORG RELATIONS. I WELCOME YOU ALL TO THE FESTIVITIES TONIGHT.” He does a little bow while moving his arms in a robotic fashion, and everyone applauds and hoots for him. Once his little routine is finished, the door to Sans’ room opens, and he reveals himself… and every word he said about it being mortifying is proven right.

It’s a recreation of Papyrus’s battle body. You aren’t sure how long it took him to make it, but it’s identical to his brother’s, only now adjusted for his height. The chest piece is far much bigger than his skull, and the black part that covers his spine is much shorter. The blue pants-like part covers his larger waist, and it’s finished off with red boots that are slightly too big.

You can hear shrill screams coming from around the living room, and you find yourself screaming, too. Everything about this image screams ‘wrong’, and it’s somehow due to how perfect it is. All the right pieces are there, but the different proportions makes it something out of a nightmare. Papyrus himself seems to be frozen in fear, and you can’t tell if it’s part of the act of his costume or not. Sans stands in his spot and shrugs while keeping a little grin on his face.

“nyeh heh heh, and all that.” Hearing his voice spreads some relief along the house, as everyone now knows it really is Sans and not some horrifying beast that had taken his place and thought that idea up. He makes his way down the steps as Papyrus tries to get back to his act.

“W-WELL, ASIDE FROM THAT… SIGHT… I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A WONDERFUL TIME TONIGHT! WHILE I MYSELF CANNOT DRINK A LIQUID, AS A PROTOCOL DROID, I ADVISE YOU ALL TO HELP YOURSELF TO SOME!” He points at the eyeball punch before going down the webby steps himself.

While Sans comes down the steps, a little stomping noise comes from each time a boot smacks the wood. You hope it’s not simply an extra battle body Papyrus owns that was stolen, cause if he did make it, he sure gave it all the right detail. As much as you’d enjoy meeting some new monsters at the party, you’d like Sans to see your costume as well, so you gently push through the masses until you meet face to face.

“you like it, protag? a shame i didn’t hijack any pasta to complete the look-“ He’s suddenly stopped by the sight of your costume.

By complete coincidence, you dressed as him. The store had a blue hoodie that was close enough, and when you saw it at work one day, you immediately knew who you wanted to be. Some pink slippers and a generic pair of black shorts with a white stripe we’re all you needed to seal the deal. Walking around in slippers was a little harder than Sans had made it out to be, but you’d managed to get from the bathroom to the living room without tripping up, so that was a start. He seems taken aback by the costume, but in a good way.

“...w-wow. you dig my fashion sense that much?”

“I sure do. Anyone that can walk around in these with no trouble deserves mad respect.”

“no one’s dressed as me before. maybe my stage charisma’s taking off.” As the two of you go on about the costume, Papyrus strolls by.

“GREETINGS AGAIN, PROTAG! I SEE YOU’VE TAKEN A LIKING TO MY BROTHER’S STYLE. NORMALLY, I WOULD BE LED TO BELIEVE HE’S TRYING TO PULL YOU INTO MORE OF HIS ANTICS, BUT IF YOU APPRECIATE WHAT HE WEARS, I CAN’T HOLD ANYTHING BUT PRIDE.” He gives his brother a little rub on the shoulder bone. “I CERTAINLY CAN’T SAY I WAS EXPECTING YOUR SURPRISE, EITHER.”

“oh, you thought that was the only surprise i had up my… i’ve used ‘sleeve’ too much anyway. here, i’ll bring him over.” Sans turns away from you and Papyrus and shouts to the jubilant crowd. “yo, mtt. he’s here if you’re ready to meet him.”

“MTT? Y-YOU COULDN’T MEAN…” Papyrus’s question was answered. Mettaton himself, in his sleek body, strolled his way over to the taller skeleton.

“this is my bro, papyrus. he’s been a fan of your stuff for years.” Mettaton began to speak in a pompous, rolling voice.

“OH, IS THAT SO? ALWAYS A PLEASURE SEEING ANOTHER METTAFAN.”

“FAN?! YOUR MOVIES ARE THE BEST, METTATON! I’VE ADORED THE WAY YOU PRESENT YOURSELF ON STAGE, AND… AND… *AHEM* MY APOLOGIES, I S-SHOULD INTRODUCE MYSELF FIRST. I AM THE GREAT… ERM… MY NAME IS PAPYRUS.” He sticks out his golden hand to shake, which Mettaton shakes back in smooth, robotic fashion.

“SANS, HOW DID YOU GET SOMEONE OF SUCH S…STARDOM TO YOUR PARTY?”

“all those shows at the hotel. comedy opens plenty of doors, buddyo.” The robot spoke up again.

“DARLING, YOUR COSTUME IS ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS. I’D EVEN PUT IT ON PAR WITH WHAT I’VE WORN TONIGHT.”

“Y… YOU REALLY THINK SO??” A flustered blush was popping up on Papyrus’s face.

“mtt, that’s the same thing you wear just about every night.”

“THAT’S WHAT MAKES IT A COSTUME, SANSY! YOU EXPECT IT TO BE SOMETHING DIFFERENT, BUT THE SCARE IS THAT IT’S THE SAME!”

“can’t argue with that logic.”

“COME ALONG, PAPYRUS. WE’VE GOT A METTA-TON TO TALK ABOUT FOR MY MOVIES.” Mettaton grabs Papyrus’ hand, and he excitedly walks off with him to one of the other rooms.

“Looks like you really made your brother’s night.”

“eh, this party was his idea. it’s the least i could do.”

“Make sure you have some fun for yourself, though. You’ve got a full house of people to see.”

“yeah, i’ll try to get around to everyone. most of them have seen me perform, so the costume shouldn’t make a whacky first impression.” Sans wandered off to mingle with some of the guests, as you take the time to give your first solid look of the surroundings. The monsters that were invited are in all different shapes and sizes, as usual. There’s a living bowl of water with a head accompanied by a muscular horse with a tentacle-like tail. Nearby, a plane with a bow on its head seems to be hovering above the floor. The Underground will never cease its amazement.

The night seems to fly by. You meet up with a bunch of the guests, learn their backgrounds, and try some of the punch while you’re at it. The fake eyeballs don’t ruin the taste, as the mix of fresh fruits make it sweet and refreshing. When it comes to be time for the bon fire, it thankfully doesn’t destroy the house. Earlier, you’d been wondering what kind of magic made it work, but Sans simply places the rocks in a circle and lights the thing. It’s an odd sight for inside of a house, but warms up the atmosphere for everyone.

It isn’t long before the night becomes very late, and the guests make their way out. Some of them partied a little too hard and have a hard time finding the door, but after enough convincing, Sans and Papyrus managed to politely get them out. Mettaton is the last one to leave, leaving Paps with a last blissful remark. “HAVE A GOOD REST, PAPSY! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS NIGHT OF PURE ENCHANTMENT.” With that, some clouds form around him before he reappears as a monitor on a wheel, before shooting off into the sky like a rocket. **That **would surely be a talking point the next time the two of them meet up.

You’re about to head out, too, but you glance at your watch and notice it’s past 2. The thought of the Riverperson still being out this late is unlikely, unless they don’t run on any sleep, but it isn’t worth taking that risk.

“you can stay over again, protag. least we can offer after you set all my junk up.”

“Y-YES, PROTAG… FEEL FREE TO STAY B…BY.” Mettaton’s presence had apparently set some sort of trance onto Papyrus, as he stood completely still by the door, fidgeting and somehow having some blush creep through the skull paint. Sans made his way to the closet, cautiously stepping over all the decorations and mess so he wouldn’t fall over and create a real horror story, and opened up the closet door. Despite all the storage, he’d still seemed to leave the sheets there in case something like this would happen again, and reached up to pull them down. The boots gave him the extra bit of height he needed for it to not be hard, and grabbed them without stumbling this time. Brushing off whatever was left on the couch, he tosses the sheets on. Seeing the hoodie still wedged between the cushions relieves you that no one tried pulling it out.

“need anything? i’d offer the punch, but i got a little bored earlier, and, eh… helped myself.” You notice the little glob of red by his mouth and assure him it’s all fine. The skeletons head up the stairs as you say your good nights to them, watching Sans head towards Papyrus’ room in his equally amazing and terrifying battle body. They both enter his room again, as neither the late time or celebration can take away a reading of Fluffy Bunny. As you lay back into the pillow, any tension from all the decorating and standing around at the party is removed, and you’re grateful that the feeling isn’t ruined by any unexpected bits of food on the couch. Curling to your side, you close your eyes and let the pleasure from the party soothe you into your sleep.

* * *

Well, that was the goal.

As the house enters its rest, a new page is turned.


	13. Unguided Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halloween party was nothing short of excellent. Everyone had a wonderful time together, Sans gave you something to remember with his battle body, and you did so in return with your costume of him. Papyrus even got to meet Mettaton, his longest-time idol. Eventually, it got very late, and while everyone else left to return home, yours would have been too far of a walk, so you're allowed to stay again. However, on this night, something happens that changes your mindset in an instant.

** Chapter 13 – Unguided Dreams **

**BLAST.**

A terrifying explosion of a sound raises you from your sleep. As you fling your head up from the pillow, there’s no denying something really has happened this time. There’s a slight smell of smoke that seems to be seeping in from the right, and looking up the staircase, you’re certain where it came from. Papyrus’s door remains motionless, but the door to Sans’ room seems to be vibrating violently from the reaction of whatever’s happened.

Plunging into this head-first might be putting yourself in danger, but Sans is one of your closest friends. You couldn’t leave him unattended if something that unstable’s going on. Not taking a moment of wait, you turn from the couch and quickly swing to your feet, smacking your knee hard on the table in the process. It isn’t long before the soreness creeps in, but that’s the last thing on your mind.

While running up the stairs, you realize Papyrus is somehow still sleeping. Part of you wants to wake him up and let him know something’s wrong, but your mind isn’t in the best place to put an explanation together, and every second that you knew Sans was alone gave you more worry. Hurrying along the hall, you slam your hand on the doorknob, which seems to have picked up some sort of heat, and turn it.

Sans is sitting up on his bed, one arm curled around his knees and the other held out in the air, in the direction a dragon-like skull head that’s floating above the floor. His one eye socket is completely black and hollow, like the time he defended you, but the other one is now adorned with a glowing blue circle, much like the ones the other skull head has. There’s a diminishing blue light coming from its opened mouth, and as you turn around, you see the other side of the door is now simmering from some sort of point where it was shot. You look back and see that despite all of this, there seems to be a bit of a smile left on his face. It’s not as big as when you usually see him, but it’s still there. It takes a bit for you to spit some words out.

“S-Sans, what happened?? Are you hurt?” You can hear some heavy breathing from him before he begins to speak up, too.

“…heya. sorry if i messed up your sleep, doubt you wanted an alarm so soon.” He seems to quietly chuckle a bit before pulling the raised arm down, and the floating skull fades away. With that, the tension he was holding appears to give in, and he collapses back on the bed a bit, his reached out hands being the only thing that holds him up. It’s your first time seeing him without his hoodie, as it’s floating around in an odd tornado that’s housed in the corner of the room. If this was any other day, you’d wanna know from him how it worked, but there were more urgent matters to get to. You dash over to the bed and make sure his breathing seems relaxed before gently using your right arm to lift up his shoulder a bit.

“I heard this huge noise from downstairs, and… and panicked. I’m sorry if I’m breaking your privacy by coming in, but I couldn’t leave you alone after that.”

“well, it’s a good thing you didn’t sleepwalk your way in sooner. that shot probably wouldn’t have been a good wake-up call.” It baffles you that he’s still able to joke around after the scene that you’ve been able to piece together in your head. Something in his sleep must have set him off enough to make that power of his shoot at the door. That’s as much as you can pull from this, though. The sight of your sleeve as you pull his shoulder up reminds you that you’ve still got the same outfit on, now both without the hoodie.

“wow… you liked dressing up as me so much that you wanted to in your sleep, too.” It may have been because you only had with you the costume and the other outfit you’d worn on the way, but at the same time, maybe that wasn’t why.

“Sans… something’s wrong. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in the middle of the night, and if it’s what I’m thinking, it’s happened every night I’ve been around.” The consistent smile on Sans’ face fades a bit, but he still holds onto it. A bit of a vain idea comes to your head, and while it’s likely not the source of the problem, maybe it would cheer him up a bit before digging into what might be going on.

“Did something from the party spook you bad enough? Your brother’s punch was pretty creepy in person.”

“heh, yeah, he did a pretty solid job with that. he might be the coolest guy in the underground, overground, or innerground to know, but halloween’s still his favorite holiday.” He chuckles a bit before it tapers off, and the smile surprisingly lessens a little more. You realize sitting on the floor and looking up at him might not be the most comforting spot for either if you, so you make a suggestion.

“Mind if I step up?” He nods before taking the ball that is the sheet on his bed and flapping it a bit to straighten it out. Sans might not take the time to neaten much out for himself, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to disappoint a guest. You let go of his shoulder and step up onto the mattress, making sure to keep respectful distance. The mattress creaks a bit from the shift of weight; it must be pretty old.

“You’ve got a nice room. Didn’t know you work out.” You point to the treadmill that’s oddly placed in the center of the room.

“that thing doesn’t work anymore. need to call someone to come fix it. maybe the sight of a bone sweating traumatized it.” Another chuckle that’s cut short by some sort of realization of why you’re in the room with him. It’s clear that beating around the bush isn’t gonna help anymore.

“Sans, I’ve known you for a couple months now. You and I see eye to eye socket, and I want you to know you can trust me. Whatever’s happening, please let me listen. It shouldn’t be trapped in your head, and I can do what I can to get you through it.”

“protag… you’re my guest. i shouldn’t ask you to solve little ol’ me’s problems.”

“Maybe it’s part of why I’m down here. Fate led me to that first comedy show of yours, and perhaps it’s led me to get you past this in return.” He slowly looks downwards towards the bed sheets.

“maybe. guess i don’t know much ‘bout human compassion, but after meeting the last one i knew well, i shouldn’t be too surprised.” Sans looks up again.

“…alright. i can trust you. you can’t tell another soul about this, though. i don’t want anyone getting as paranoid as i am.”

“You have my word. Whatever you say stays between you and me.” He clears his throat, clenching on the sheets a bit harder. Something comes to mind, though, that you figure's best to clear up now. Cutting him off isn't something you want to do, but it'll be easier for you to focus after.

"Has Papyrus ever heard this happen?"

"no. his walls are completely sound-proofed, bark-proofed, and trombone-proofed. no noise goes in there, so he can focus all he wants on his puzzle work. no matter how loud that k-kablammo was, there's no way he can hear it."

"Alright. If you helped, that was real kind of you to lend a hand for."

"i did, but i don't wanna take the credit. he's the one making his projects come to life." If Sans doesn't stop himself, he'd willingly go into a tangent on how cool his brother is, but he knows that's not what you're there to hear. Drawing in a deep breath, he gets to it.

“…have you ever felt a bad dose of déjà vu?”

“Déjà vu? I might’ve felt that way when I was little, but maybe I didn’t get out enough and figured a bunch of days felt the same. Haven’t thought about that in years, though.”

“exactly. protag, there’s things i’ve seen and known that i wouldn’t wish on anyone.” With that, he slowly goes on about what he’d endured before the Underground was freed. He explained this flower that seemed to possess a grave control of time, and made the people relive certain days over and over with different outcomes. Somehow, he was the only one that seemed to understand this.

“he held this power to do whatever the heck was on his mind, and roll it back like it was nothing. i can’t count the amount of times he’d find a way to do something to my town, or my… my brother… and then i’d suddenly be back in my home in the morning, like it was some sort of twisted dream. the saddest part was when my bro would make the same dish of spaghetti, and then say the same thing about what he’d try to do better next time.” His recounts of times like this are difficult to listen to without reacting yourself, but you keep up with it, not wanting Sans to think he’s done something wrong. Eventually, he got to the time he met the human that would go on to free the Underground, who you had heard bits and pieces about from his shows in the past.

“once the barrier got broken to pieces, the days stopped repeating. my worry that flowey would do something horrible and never go back could finally be laid to rest.” You feel that you’ve let him go on for long enough that it’s alright to ask something.

“What’s causing this now, then? I can’t see any reason this ‘Flowey’ would come back at a time like this.”

Sans lets a long, slightly shaky breath from out of his nose hole. “it’s papyrus. when we moved back down here, he was more determined than ever to make out the best life he can. he works so hard at being everything someone could want out of a personal trainer, and with the kind of money he brings in, his clients agree, too. between that and the bonds he’s got with his pals, i haven’t been prouder of him.” Again, he lowers his head, seemingly trying to hide that his smile is just about gone.

“it’s… it’s too perfect. after what i saw for years, i can’t enjoy all this without knowing something’s gonna happen again. what if that flower’s still out there, and has been holding onto some plot for years? i could wake up one day and find out i’m still down here… without you… and that my b-brother’s gone…”

“Sans. It’s okay to not smile. I don’t want you to have to hold back how you’re feeling. I get that you wish for all of us to be happy, but we want you to be happy, too. Let yourself express how you feel inside, and we can take the first step to fixing that.” Sans slowly nods his head and tries to place his hand on your shoulder, but misses and presses it on your chest instead. He seems to make a bit of a sniffing noise as you don’t object to his hand. Seeing him without a smile is admittedly something you’re not used to, but you feel catharsis in knowing that in this hard moment, he isn’t afraid to hide how he feels.

“i promise i’m not putting this aside when i’m with you, my other buds, or on stage. those are the kinds of things that help me forget about what’s happening. when it’s night, though, all i have to talk to is the treadmill, and it doesn’t talk back. my dreams always end up with the same fear, which i suppose i’ve woken you up with a few times now.”

“Please don’t give that any thought. I can get this sleep back later, but you need this help now.” You take a moment before pushing ahead with what you’d been thinking of throughout most of this. “Why haven’t you talked with your brother about it? Knowing him, he’d do absolutely anything to get your mind at more peace.”

“i don’t wanna scare him away from doing anything. if he knew, he might try to do less for my sake, and that’s the last thing either of us need.”

“Then I’ll be the one you can talk to. There might be bumps along the way, but you won’t have to face them alone. You’ve gone too long without having someone to follow you in this, and that ends tonight.” Sans realizes he’s not in a place to object. Given the state that he’s in, it’s apparent that trying to move through these thoughts himself hasn’t been working. He slides the hand that’s been resting on your chest around your back, and pulls himself closer for a hug. Despite everything, it feels the same as that hug you were given at the Dip.

“i dunno how good i am at this. never practiced much, aside from when my bro’s wanted or needed one, but it feels different when we’re not connected by calcium.”

“It’s perfectly fine exactly how it is.” A mix of punch and party snacks comes off of Sans, and something about it is comforting. Perhaps it’s a reminder that the similarities you have with the Underground dwellers are bigger than the differences.

“I don’t want you to have to be alone again tonight. Would you be cool with me sticking around?” While Sans may trust you, you think it’s best to still ask first. You can feel some movement coming from his jaw, and figure it’s a smile slowly coming back.

“it’d be another first for a friend, but sure thing. the treadmill can take an off day.” Reluctantly letting go of the hug, you swing over to the door and switch the light back off. The room is mostly black now, aside from some of the light that the snow from outside shines through the window. Sans pushes himself a bit to his left to make room, and he begins to seem a bit shaky from the thought of trying to sleep again.

“Remember, you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’ll do my best to make that enough.”

“as long as you’re still the same fellow dork that likes my jokes, you’ll always be good enough for me.” That healthy dose of sarcasm is a refreshing reminder that Sans hasn’t lost his true personality. You flop down on the other side of the bed without pulling the sheets over, not wanting to invade his comfort.

“night night, protag. thanks for holding the blanket down, guess it won’t get all balled up tonight.”

“My pleasure.” As Sans drifts off, his right arm starts to drift towards your direction. Not wanting to interrupt his rest, you let it happen as you watch the ceiling above you before starting to drift off yourself. While it may have not started in the best of ways, tonight could be the beginning of a new direction, which will hopefully be one to relieve Sans of all of his worries. The whistling noise of the tornado serves to be the icing on the cake for the setting, as the two of you drift off to a peaceful sleep, looking forward to what tomorrow brings.


	14. The Next Measure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night gave you possibly the most startled emotions you'd ever had. While you made sure to not let it show on the outside, seeing Sans, your closest friend, in mental pain felt like an icicle to the heart. With not many options being reachable in the middle of the night, you decide to rest alongside him overnight, which he appears to be content with. All you can hope for is that when morning comes, it will be the beginning of something better.

** Chapter 14 – The Next Measure **

While there’s no ray of sunlight to pierce through Sans’ window, your internal clock wakes you up around nine. For a moment, you’re unsure of where you are, before you remember what enveloped last night. Looking to your left, you see Sans still comfortably resting, his eye sockets closed as he faces upwards, still with a bit of a grin on his face as he snoozes. Some movement can be heard from downstairs, so Papyrus must already be up, preparing breakfast. You could wake Sans up now to surprise his younger brother, but if this is the first healthy night of sleep he’s gotten in a while, you don’t want to cut it short, so you slowly wrap your left arm around his shoulder while he’s not noticing and glance up at the ceiling.

The nights you’ve spent at Sans and Papyrus’ house are the first you’ve had in a while without the bustle of the city. Usually, there’s a consistent stream of chatter and noises from the roads throughout the night, but it was common and quiet enough for you to adjust to it. Staying out in Snowdin without it was still refreshing, though. There must not be many late-night people, because despite it being the night of Halloween, you were able to get refreshing sleep without anything sudden outside.

Papyrus’s cooking noises from downstairs have quieted down now, so he must be waiting for the food to heat up. Enjoying the tranquility, you twiddle your thumbs a bit and look towards the shorter skeleton again. You hope that your presence last night was what he needed; nothing happened after the two of you passed out again, so he seems to have been relaxed enough, at least from what the outside can tell. Knowing that he’s been putting up with poor dreams for such a long time was greatly troubling, but you were going to do your best to look at this as an opportunity for him to be better, as thinking back to the past too much wasn’t going to do Sans any good. Your inner monologue gets cut short, though, when you hear some rushed footsteps coming up the steps. Papyrus must’ve noticed you weren’t on the couch. The front door flings open, proving your point right.

“SANS! WAKE UP! PROTAG’S LEFT, WHO KNOWS HOW LONG HE’S BEEN FREEZING HIS SKIN OFF IN THE COLD-” He stops himself when he sees you in the bed as well, watching him with a slightly dazed face. It would still be a bit before you’re fully focused for the morning.

“O-OH, MY APOLOGIES, PROTAG. DIDN’T THINK YOU’D BE UP HERE. MY BROTHER DOESN’T TYPICALLY MAKE HIS BED THE COZIEST-LOOKING PLACE TO REST, BUT IT WAS KIND OF HIM TO OFFER SOMETHING THAT ISN’T THE COUCH.” Papyrus’ shout was enough to snap Sans out of his rest, as his eyesockets open up a bit and he pulls his shoulders up off the pillow. You quickly slide your arm off of his shoulder, trying to pass it off as something that happened in your sleep.

“…hey, bro. sorry to… *yawn*… get your bones all rustled like that. protag’s a heavy sleeper, too, so i guess i’m finally not the only one in town.” Papyrus took a long look at the two of you, seeming slightly confused, but at least pleased that the two of you had a comfortable sleep.

“BREAKFAST IS ALMOST READY. I DECIDED TO WHIP UP A PARTICULARLY UNIQUE MASTERPIECE TO CELEBRATE OUR WONDERFUL HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION LAST NIGHT! NYEH HEH HEH!” He thoughtfully shuts the door to make the room dark again in case Sans needs any more shut-eye, and can be heard hustling down the stairs to get back to the food. Sans turns towards you now, still looking fairly droopy, but not wanting to go back to sleep.

“heya, protag. hope i’m not a snorer, but without any organs, i doubt i could be.”

“You were perfectly fine, dude. I was hoping that wasn’t what I was doing, too. Did you sleep well?”

“yeah, once you showed up, it got miles better. i was a lil’ nervous going back to sleep, but i wasn’t gonna blast my door again with a guest in the same room. surprised my bro didn’t smell anything when he came in.”

“If I may ask, what was that thing? I’d never seen anything like it before.”

“oh, that. that’s my protection if anything dangerous comes up. a good ol’ blast of light and energy could probably stop anyone that’s plotting to do something wrong.”

“And that… dream of yours set that off?”

“guess so. we can talk about it more after breakfast, once my bro heads off for the day. think he’s decided to throw a bone someone’s way and pay ‘em a visit.” Since you’re on the side of the bed by the door, you pull yourself out first, realizing when your feet hit the floor that you forgot to take your socks off when you fell asleep last night.

“aww. guess i’m alone in the sardine tin now.” He winks, but the sarcastic tone isn’t there as much. Pulling himself up, Sans closes his eyes and does this big stretch, as you hear creaking noises come from across his body. Without any muscle to support themselves, skeletons must get pretty stiff after a night of sleep. Once his stretch is over, he lets out a little burp before getting out of bed as well to pull his hoodie out of the little tornado in the corner of the room.

“You’ve got an impressive laundry bin there.”

“thanks. it’s more eco-friendly than a plastic one, anyway.” A swarm of hoodies flies in a circle as he reaches in and grabs one. There’s a little stain in the corner, but it smells fine, so Sans shrugs and throws his arms through the holes. He tiredly walks over to the door and opens it for you as he yawns. The two of you leave the door open and make your way down the stairs, where the surprising smell of oatmeal greets your nose and his nose hole. Entering the kitchen, Papyrus greets you both while setting a large bowl down by the side of his waist. “THAT WAS THE MOST GUESTS WE’VE EVER HAD HERE! SUCH A MONUMENTOUS EVENT IS DESERVING OF SOME FRESH BOWLS OF OATMEAL. I’LL SPARE YOU FROM THE SAME STORY WE TOLD YOU BEFORE, PROTAG.” Peering at the table, you see three bowls filled with the same creamy goodness you’d been given some time ago. For a moment, the strength of the scent melts away any concern lingering in your mind, as you ease your way into your seat. Either from his lack of rest, or perhaps simply from habit, Sans plops down onto his chair with a resounding thud, as his brother cleans up the stove and comes over, too. Not many words are exchanged as the three of you plow through the bowls.

“EXCELLENT, AS ALWAYS. TAKING THE DECORATIONS DOWN SOON IS SURELY GOING TO BE A BUMMER.”

“yeah, i’m gonna miss the cobwebs getting stuck in my eyesockets when i go upstairs.”

“SANS! YOU KNOW YOU APPRECIATED THE DECORATIONS FAR MORE THAN THAT, DON’T TRY HIDING IT!”

“heh, just pulling your femur some more, bro. the town’s lucky to have your kind of creativity.”

“WELL, BROTHER, I DO APPRECIATE THAT.” He glances up at the clock that sits to the left of the sink tower.

“OH, WHOOPSIE! I NEARLY FORGOT THAT UNDYNE WAS EXPECTING ME TO VISIT THIS AFTERNOON UP ON THE SURFACE. SHE’S FILLING ME IN ON HOW HER OWN HALLOWEEN SHENANIGANS WENT.” If everything the skeletons had said about Undyne so far was true, which you’re pretty certain it is, her hosting her own party where creativity and spookiness are the name of the game sounds both brilliant and terrifying. He gulps through the rest of his serving and takes a few leaps up the ladder to reach the sink, as you sit at your seat and hope the ladder keeps its balance. Fortuantely, it does, and he washes the bowl and puts it away before springing towards the door, cape blowing behind him.

“IF I DON’T SEE YOU AGAIN TODAY, PROTAG, THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP AND FOR BEING A TOP-TIER GUEST FOR OUR PARTY! SANS, I’LL SEE YOU LATER, AND SEE IF YOU CAN START WITH TAKING SOME OF THIS STUFF DOWN.”

“i’ll try to get to it. maybe you’ll run into mettaton on the way. hope you have a ten outta ten review written for each of his movies by now.” Papyrus starts getting flustered.

“OH, I WOULDN’T NEED TO WRITE ANYTHING FOR THAT. I-I’VE GOT EACH OF HIS FILMS MEMORIZED TO THE LAST GLAMORIZING FINGER!” He rushes out the door, with a blush now adorning his face.

“glad that worked out last night. robots and cold don’t mix, so it took a lotta convincing.” Sans shows you a photograph of his TV’s DVR screen, which shows each movie recorded in both the original and remastered versions. “he appreciates all his ‘darlings’ that watch, but to go that far outta his way, you’ve gotta be an official mettafan, with the trademarks ‘n all that.”

“I’m sure he’s never gonna forget it. you gave him something real nice to remember.”

“he… *hic*… deserved it.” He starts scooping up the bits of remaining oatmeal into his spoon, making that scraping noise.

“Is the oatmeal still warm enough? I can run it over to the microwave, if it doesn’t hit the hot spot.”

“heheh, good one, but no thanks. i’ve got, like, two bites left, it’s not worth steaming up over.” You both finish the rest of your helpings as you continue to warmly trade puns. He cleans your bowl for you, not wanting that climb to cause a real horror story after a day of enjoyable horror stories. Once that’s taken care of, he plops down on the seat next to yours again. Neither of you really had made a plan for what to do or say after breakfast. You decide to break the quiet.

“So… after I came in last night, was your sleep better? Please be completely honest, I want to know if me being there helps or not.”

“much better. there was a point where some rough stuff was starting to creep in, but something in my noggin reminded me i wasn’t an alone bone. you also kept the sheets pretty still, so i didn’t hafta wake up to them being crunched into a ball again.”

“Something crept in?”

“yeah. don’t remember the details, but it wasn’t a good feeling. it was good you were there, or it coulda taken over.” He rubs a few oats off of his teeth.

“We can’t let this slide, bud. We’ve gotta do some stuff to help with your confidence. You shouldn’t have to deal with that when I’m not around.”

“i dunno if it’s confidence. my brother’s attitude can be pretty contagious, even if it’s not really shown on the outside.”

“Well… I guess I’m not really sure what word to put it with, but either way, you shouldn’t have to stick with the things you’re putting up with now. It’s not healthy, and you simply deserve better.”

“are you sure you wanna take that time outta your day to do that kind of thing for me, though? you’ve got a lot on your plate as it is.” He reaches out towards the table to show you your bowl, but all he grabs at is air, forgetting that he’d put the bowl away a couple minutes ago.

“welp. that didn’t work.”

“It was still a good thought, I could tell what you were tryin’ to do. To answer your question, though, yes, you’re absolutely worth the time. I think the first step for all this is gonna have to be you reassuring yourself that.”

“i guess i’ve never been one to toot my own horn, unless i’m serenading you with that trombone of mine.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea. Have you gotten to play for others much?”

“not really. my brother listens to it, and if something festive’s goin’ on in town, i’ll crank it out, but I haven’t done a private show for anyone else in a while.”

“Would you be cool with playing one or two? I’d really like to hear how you sound on it.” Sans looks conflicted for a moment, but snaps out of it and looks back at you.

“sure thing. i trust ya not to judge. hope it hasn’t frozen still by now, though, not touching a brass instrument for a while’s a big no-go.” He swings off the seat and slowly strolls over to the stairs at his own pace. You’re fine with however long it takes him to find it; given everything else that’s been going through his mind, the last thing he needs is a friend to be impatient. You can hear some rustling around coming from upstairs for a minute or so before the hinges of his door creak again. He brings the trombone case to the living room, and there’s enough dust for you to notice from the kitchen. Heading over to the other room, you sit down in the middle of the couch, before hearing a little tug.

The hoodie between the cushions moved. Papyrus had let you know the terror that would ensue if it came out, and you’d be flooded with guilt if you were responsible for that. Entering panic mode, you wedge it back between the cushions, trying to get it in the exact shape it was in before you sat down. By some miracle, nothing erupts. You look back at Sans, who’s frozen still and has smaller pupils in his eye sockets than usual. Once he sees that nothing wrong’s about to happen, he lets out whatever air he’d taken in before laughing a bit.

“don’t worry ‘bout that. it happens to the best of us.” Reaching back down, he unlocks the case and pulls the trombone out of it. Despite the dreariness of the outside, the trombone itself is glistening clean, with Sans’ reflection coming off its golden-brass hue. He pushes the slide in and out, and it moves glossy smooth.

“that’s a relief. i’d only have, like, four notes to play if this thing was stuck.” You’re curious as to how Sans can play it without having any lips, but if he can eat without opening his mouth, something like this has to be doable, too. Immediately proving your point, he blows a note into the trombone to make sure it’s all still good to go, letting out a consistent _bwoooooomp_ sound. You grin and sit back on the couch, now on the opposite side of the hoodie. He rolls back his shoulders and turns to the side, so the sound isn’t pressing right into your face.

“here’s your safety warning. if my playing hurts anything, i’ve warned ya, and you can’t say i haven’t.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a concern at all.” His smile seems the most natural it’s been all morning as he breathes in, but before hitting his first note, he stops.

“oh, yeah, almost forgot something. a solo without a drum beat would be pretty darn sad.” He hurries upstairs to his brother’s room, and you can hear some clicking before he comes downstairs.

“found a beat on my brother’s computer. good thing the undernet’s really slow, or else it’d start too soon.” You chuckle and politely put your hands together, as Sans starts to play his melody.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67IhaVsBbvo>

You’re quickly blown away, and not from the wind the trombone provides. How could Sans say his playing’s a safety risk, and then put together this beauty of a song? His eye sockets are closed as he appears to let his conscience make all the moves for him, smoothly transitioning from note to note. It reminds you of the kind of music you’d hear at clubs and bars on the surface, from the small jazz groups that would come by to share their tunes and get noticed.

His notes are mostly higher ones for a trombone, but occasionally he drops down to a lower set. It’s at this point it hits you that he doesn’t even have to look at sheet music for this; it’s all been put together in that noggin he talks about. The sight of him blissfully playing through his tune is incredibly touching, and the increased beat in your heart reminds you of that. He truly is something else. After five or so soothing minutes, he holds out a high A and gives it a bit of a wobble before trailing off, and the beat from upstairs satisfyingly ends at the same time. Springing up from the couch, you give him a rousing applause. It looks like he’s about to shrug when he finishes, but seeing your gratitude towards his music makes him stop and do a little bow.

“…Sans, that was excellent. Never sell your music ability short again.”

“that was the best i think i ever did that little ditty. pretty sure i know why, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“i’ll give ya a chance to take a guess.” There’s one answer you really want him to give, but you go with something else instead.

“The gentle warming feeling a fresh bowl of oatmeal gives?”

“good guess. doubt the surface has any ‘meal quite as good. that ain’t it, though. looks like your guess count hit zero.”

“Darn. What is it, then?”

“you.” He quickly spits the word out, seemingly to stop any restraint, before looking towards the ground, with the hand that’s not holding the trombone shaking. It hits you that now’s the right time. You reach out with your left hand and gently grab the open hand of his. It snaps him out of his dazed expression, and he now looks up at you with a bit of surprise, as the lights in his eye sockets seem to gleam a bit.

“w-welp, can’t say i was expecting that, but… that was nice.” He grips back at your hand in return.

“mine’s a lot colder than yours. guess that makes us perfect room temperature together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter coming this long after the last one! The creative juices weren't flowing as well over the past couple weeks, and I only wanted to put the chapter out when it was the best I could give. My once a week schedule doesn't seem to be maintainable any more, but I will try to upload chapters for now on as soon as I'm content with the material. Thank you very much for staying with my story for this long.


	15. Minutes Seem Like Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as it bugs you, you aren't able to stick around Sans' house forever. It isn't long before you have to give him your encouragement and head back to New Home to work for the week. Not being around in Snowdin isn't the most enjoyable feeling, and soon enough, you aren't the only one feeling that way, too.

**Chapter 15 – Minutes Seem Like Hours**

It was hard to leave Sans for the day after that. He at least seemed to be in a much happier place in his mind after showing his trombone skill, and you promised it wouldn’t be long before you’d swing by again, but the thought of leaving him alone had grown more difficult by now. Still, he insisted that you take the time to get home safe, so your bosses don’t wind up mad on the wrong day.

“if one-a those blizzards swings by again, i don’t want ya not making it and getting fired. i’d offer a top-tier job for making hot dogs when i’m away, and i could teach ya all my secrets, but i dunno if it’d pay well enough. the gold’s probably worth more than that silly paper up top, but you get what i mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. I appreciate your consideration for my job, it might not be the most fun thing, but it’s what keeps me on two feet down here.”

“you’re saying it’s not halloween parties and inconsistent oatmeal bowls? that’s a real bummer.” He winks and lets you head over to the door.

“maybe i’ll hafta make an excuse to check out your work again sometime soon. nothing says capitalism like buying leftover decorations for dirt cheap.”

“Oh, totally. Everything we didn’t sell’s gonna be at least three-quarters off, you might as well grab some for next year.”

“who said anything about next year? haunted houses are gonna be the next big new year’s thing. we’ll buy out all the cobwebs, and you, me, and my bro can make the best haunted house in town, and charge the low, low price of 50000g for people to get in.”

“Now _there’s_ capitalism at its best.” You thank him for the great trombone performance, and step out of the house. Some monsters are hard at work, pulling the decorations off their homes, while others either partied too hard to get up this early, or would be too bummed to see it go away so soon. The library’s already back to being the librarby, though, and that’s for the best. Traditions like that are best left untouched.

As you step off the porch and onto the street, you can see a sloppy set of foot prints coming from the house and turning eastward. They must’ve been from when Papyrus took off to meet with his friend. You hope he knows about the Riverperson, or else that could be a long, long run, but if he’s as good of a personal trainer as Sans says he is, maybe that’s a typical morning sprint.

In the back of your mind, you worry that while following the footsteps, you’ll find the markings of a huge face plant, but to your relief, that’s nowhere to be seen. Following the same path Sans’ younger brother must have taken, you work your way through Snowdin and take in the aftermath of the jubilant holiday before hooking the now-familiar left to reach the riverperson. Somehow, they’re always waiting at whichever station you approach, as if they expect you to be there at that time.

The boat, which happens to have the shape of a dog head adorning its front today, takes off as you make the familiar route back towards New Home. While it might not have the same tranquility as Snowdin, you’d definitely take it over the surface, like Sans had brought up earlier. While it’s only the first of November, there’s likely already decorations up for another holiday. When you’d been living up on the surface, there was never enough time after Halloween before all the stores jumped to the next big deal.

Watching the silky water split as the boat pushes through it reminds you of what the hue of Sans’ room was like in the dark. Of course, the Underground doesn’t have any sunlight, but without any lights on in the house or town, it gives off a fairly similar effect. The natural beauty of the setting becomes less of a mental priority as you inevitably slip back to thinking about last night, that towering skull head that Sans had summoned, and just how long he’s been putting up with this, which is something you hadn’t thought to ask. You have his number, but it’s not something that could easily be brought up over a text, so your best wish is that it hasn’t been for an unbearably long time.

When you reach the Hotland station and step off the boat, though, Sans’ trombone performance reminds you of something. In one of the back corners of your store, there’s a music section that doesn’t get touched very much, probably because it’s odd to have it in a store that primarily specializes in clothing and housing items. Regardless, you’re fairly sure that there’s some trombone charts in that section, and Sans might enjoy some new pieces to learn. You shoot a text his way about it and keep walking, and he gets back to you a few minutes later.

**“good idea, there’s probably some good humdingers there i could learn. wanna get the piece i played for ya good enough to do in front of others, though, it’d be a real bummer if i _slid_ to another piece first.**” He then sends a recording of him playing his trombone like a slide whistle.

**“Haha, fair point. Best of luck with it, if you can pull that out for me, I’m sure you can for the rest of the town.”** He doesn’t get back to that one, but you figure he must be wrapped up with something, partially stemming from your fear of him not being in a happy mood. The rest of the walk home is uneventful, with no elevator antics this time to spice it up. New Home’s still got plenty of Halloween decorations adorning its buildings, but with how much happened over the past twenty-four hours, you aren’t in the mood. It isn’t long before you’re opening the door to your apartment and taking an exhausting sit onto the bed.

As you press down on the springy mattress, though, something hits you that hadn’t in the morning. When you’d grabbed at Sans’ hand earlier, there wasn’t a single bit of worry about your surroundings. Despite being inside, if you had ever tried something like that on the surface, there’d be that premonition that someone would see it and show their disapproval, like those transplants that happened to slime their way into Snowdin a while ago.

When you’d first moved to the Underground, things like acceptance weighed more on your thoughts, but now that you’d been here for enough time, it was coming more natural to feel that level of acceptance. Suddenly realizing fills you with a sense of relief. Perhaps from all the time they were down here without the ability to get out, the monsters realized there was no reason to be petty over little differences like that. It also hits you at this time that you never really asked Sans who he liked, since he’d never seemed like the type of guy that talks about that kind of stuff. He’d rather bring up hobbies and the simpler parts of life than things like that. Still, you hoped your new open behavior around him wasn’t putting him at any unease.

The evening went on with nothing out of the ordinary, either. Tomorrow had another shift to handle, so it wouldn’t be smart to stay up too late the night before. After throwing your sleepwear on and getting ready for bed, though, you noticed a ringing coming from your phone, and it was from Papyrus. You pick it up, and he thanks you for being a help at the party and for enjoying everything it had to offer. The two of you have a friendly chat, as he goes into what Halloween was like at Undyne’s place.

“THE HUMANS IN HER NEIGHBORHOOD THOUGHT IT WAS BONKERS, BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY A LITTLE TAMER THAN I EXPECTED. FOR HER HALLOWEEN PARTIES, HOMEMADE LIGHTNING STORMS AND MAKING THE ENTIRE STREET INTO A HAUNTED ONE ARE PAR FOR THE COURSE.”

“Homemade lightning storms?”

“OH, RIGHT, YOU HAVEN'T BEEN GRACED WITH SEEING ONE YOURSELF. SHE’LL TAKE SOMETHING OLD OUTSIDE, LIKE A BROKEN OVEN, AND HER WIFE DOES ALL THESE SCIENCE THINGYMABOBBERS TO IT TO MAKE IT INTO A LIGHT SHOW. IT MIGHT NOT BE AS FABULOUS AS THE PUNCH FROM YOURS TRULY, BUT IT COMES IN A CLOSE SECOND."

“Didn’t know she’s married, congrats to her."

“OH, YES, IT’S BEEN A COUPLE OF YEARS NOW. I REMEMBER THE RECEPTION LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY. MUCH TO MY CHAGRIN, THEY ASKED SANS TO COME IN THE SAME OUTFIT AS ALWAYS, CLAIMING THEY WANTED HIM TO BE COMFORTABLE IN WHAT HE WAS WEARING. BETWEEN YOU AND ME, I THINK IT MEANS THEY’RE SECRETLY SLIPPER ADMIRERS."

“Well, who couldn’t say to a nice shade of pink?”

“OH, PROTAG, NOT YOU, TOO. I SUPPOSE SANS’ FOOTWEAR IS BETTER AT SWINDLING PEOPLE THAN I COULD HAVE IMAGINED.”

“Haha, perhaps. Are you still up on the surface, or did ya come back down from the dark side yet?”

“I’VE GRACED SNOWDIN WITH MY PRESENCE FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS NOW. IT APPEARS MY BROTHER BEGAN TO START PULLING THE DECORATIONS DOWN, BUT PASSED OUT ABOUT HALFWAY THROUGH. IT WAS MORE THAN I’D EXPECTED, THOUGH, SO I TOLD HIM I COULD HANDLE THE REST.”

“Why didn’t you want him to finish it off? He probably would’ve said yes, and that’s one less thing you’d have to do.”

“PERHAPS, BUT HE HAS BEEN LOOKING A LITTLE MORE TIRED THAN USUAL AS OF LATE.” He seemed to be speaking in a quieter voice now, presumably so Sans doesn’t hear. “NOT SURE WHY, BUT I DON’T WANT TO INVADE HIS PERSONAL BUBBLE TOO SOON. PERHAPS HE’S SIMPLY A LITTLE UNDER THE WEATHER… WELL, WE’RE ALL UNDER THE WEATHER DOWN HERE, BUT I’M SURE YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN.” That was very Sans of him. If someone’s gonna learn, they may as well learn from the best. Aside from that, though, you hadn’t known that Papyrus was noticing Sans’ lack of energy. It must have gotten bad enough for him to have a harder time hiding it. You don’t want to say anything that could come off as lying down the road by denying knowing about it, so you tell Papyrus you send his brother your best wishes with whatever may be going on.

“THANK YOU, PROTAG. I’M NOT INCREDIBLY WORRIED, THIS KIND OF THING HAS HAPPENED BEFORE. HE’LL BE BACK TO HIS OLD SELF AND ADDING MORE NOTES TO THE SOCK CHAIN BEFORE YOU KNOW IT!” Knowing the deeper picture of it, you can’t help but feel a little twinge in your gut, but you manage to keep quiet about that. After trading good nights, you end the call and set your phone by the dresser, realizing how much you need a decent night of rest. At the current instance, all you can do is wish for Sans to have a better night on his own than the ones before.

* * *

Another week of work beings, and the Halloween rush is gone. It’s still too far from New Year’s for the next holiday crowd to build up, so for now, your roles go back to how they’d been before. The thought of that dream job keeps looming over, which can make it harder to give your all for your daily routine, but the more hard work you can prove you’re capable of, the better your chances will be later.

One change of pace is your bosses calling you in for a short meeting and informing you that they’re considering giving you a promotion. Why they’d hold a meeting for something they aren’t certain about yet isn’t something you’re sure of, but you still appreciate the respect your store has for the work you’ve put in. There is one worry that this brings, though, and that’s the thought of a promotion locking you into your current job forever. As fortunate as you are to have it to pay the bills, retail isn’t exactly the kind of think you’d be wanting to do forever.

A visit from Sans to see in person how he’s doing would be the kind of boost to get you through the week’s schedule, but he doesn’t show. The two of you make sure to text or call every now and then to see how life’s treating you both, but it’s harder to tell exactly how he is without seeing him in the bone. You know it’s not something you should bring up overbearingly frequently, but with no comedy shows or hot dog shifts lined up for the time being, it’s harder to find excuses to meet up with him. Perhaps the lack of events was what got Papyrus’ attention.

The week passes by, and after a quieter weekend than what you’d been getting used to, the next week starts about the same. It’s a bit sad not getting to see the Halloween costumes on display anymore, as they were a good way to get you thinking each morning, but you suppose that’s what makes that time of year ever more special. The music corner is just about the same as it’s been since you heard Sans’ little trombone performance, so there’s no threat of the trombone charts flying off the shelves. He’s still been telling you he’s working on the same piece, so at this rate, he might not perform it again until you next see him.

It isn’t until Friday when someone familiar comes into the store. The week’s nearing an end, and it’s seeming like it’s going to wrap up as the second uneventful one in a row, but as you’re organizing some new jeans that’re being stocked, you hear a familiar sound of boots smacking the ground. Looking up from the aisle, you’re correct in believing it’s Papyrus, with his tall frame looking over the store. You’re not sure what he’s in for, since he’s not exactly one to change up his outfit much, but you’re still thankful see someone that’s not part of the same old routine. Once the last pair of jeans is hung up, you waste no time in greeting your friend.

“Heyo, Papyrus! Great seeing you, is there anything you’re looking for today?”

“HELLO, PROTAG! PLEASED TO SEE YOU, TOO, IT’S FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY SINCE THE PARTY.”

“Oh, tell me about it. It’s always a bummer falling back down to normalcy after all the excitement.” He seems to notice something in the corner of the store he’s looking for, and starts heading in that direction, with you in tow. Interestingly enough, he stops by the music section.

“I thought it was only your brother that played stuff.”

“OH, THIS ISN’T FOR ME. YOU’LL HAVE TO KEEP THIS A SUPER-LOCKED TOP SECRET, BUT I’M ACTUALLY LOOKING FOR MORE MUSIC FOR THAT TROMBONE OF HIS.” Part of you wants to tell him about that goal of his to dial down on the piece he played for you, but you keep quiet. This could be an idea Papyrus has had for a while now, as far as you know, and the last thing you want to do is ruin that.

“That’s really kind of you, it could push him to play it more, and he could be less likely to rib ya with wah-wah sounds.

“WELL, I GUESS IT REALLY IS TOO LATE. HIS JOKES SEEM TO HAVE TAKEN COMPLETE CONTROL OVER YOU.” He let out a little sigh, but doesn’t seem too bothered by the inevitable. There’s far worse things a human could be influenced by than puns. Once he’s done thinking about that, though, he drops a bit of a bombshell you can’t say you were expecting.

“I DO THINK HE’S BEEN MISSING YOUR COMPANY. USUALLY HE’LL BE OUT SELLING THOSE “’DOGS” OF HIS THAT HE LOVES TO GO ON ABOUT, BUT HE HASN’T FOR A WHILE. HIS HEART SIMPLY HASN’T BEEN INTO THE BUNS AND KETCHUP AS MUCH AS IT USUALLY IS.”

“…H-he has? I haven’t meant to make anything hard for him by not being around, work’s just been a big commitment."

“OH, I’M SURE HE ISN’T FRUSTRATED WITH YOU OVER IT. HE MIGHT JUST BE GETTING A LITTLE CASE OF THE LONE BONES. IT’S THE LONGEST IN A WHILE HE HASN’T HAD YA AROUND TO BOUNCE HIS JAPES AND IDEAS OFF OF.” He looks around, seeming to not want anyone else to listen, or possibly to make sure your bosses aren’t coming after you to ask you to go back to stocking.

“…THERE MIGHT BE SOMETHING ELSE TO IT, THOUGH. I’VE SEEN HOW HIS FACE HAS LIT UP WHENEVER THE TWO OF YOU ARE LAUGHING AND CHATTERING TOGETHER. ASIDE FROM HIS TIME WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS, I CAN’T SAY I’VE SEEN IT TO SUCH A HIGH BEFORE.” He looks around again. “IF YOU FEEL A CERTAIN WAY ABOUT HIM, DO NOT BE AFRAID TO SHARE. SECRETS STAY HIDDEN IN THESE LIPS.” The little quip at the end helps ease any tension; a skeleton with lips is a fairly terrifying thought. That little boost is enough to get you to speak up about it.

“…Yeah. I don’t really know what it is, but I think the two of us have got some really good chemistry.”

“IF YOU’VE GOT THE TIME SOON, I THINK A VISIT COULD BE EXACTLY WHAT HE NEEDS. NEITHER OF US WANT TO PULL FROM YOUR WORK IF YOUR BOSSES WANT THE HOURS, ESPECIALLY IF THEY’RE CONSIDERING THAT PROMOTION FOR YOU, BUT IF YOU AND MY BROTHER CLICK BETTER THAN A LIGHT SWITCH, A LITTLE TIME TOGETHER COULD REALLY MAKE HIS WEEK. I WANT THE BEST FOR HIM, AND BY PROXY, THE BEST FOR YOU, TOO!”

“He told you about the possible promotion?”

“YES, HE SAID HE WAS PROUD OF YOU, GIVEN THE TEN FOOT GIANTS THAT COULD’VE ALSO BEEN CONSIDERED.”

“Well, if I wasn’t already sold on coming by to see him, that seals the deal. I can’t not thank him for his kind words.” After flipping through enough pages, Papyrus finds some simple enough trombone solos that he thinks Sans would enjoy. You thank him for sharing what’s been going on, and let him know that you’ll definitely come by in the afternoon to see how his older brother’s doing, as he heads to the checkout to purchase the music.

It’s difficult to concentrate for the rest of the shift. Along the way, you make a couple clumsy mistakes that aren’t typical of your usual work, like mixing up clothing colors on racks, and getting the sizes in the wrong order. They’re all correctable mistakes, and nothing catastrophic happened, like a display falling down, but staying on track isn’t easy when such a multitude of points came to light in a matter of minutes. Sans misses your company, you admitted for the first time you feel a certain way about him, and Papyrus appears to be perfectly understanding of it.

You aren’t sure what sort of emotion to take from all of it, as the last two are uplifting, but the first makes you feel a sense of guilt for not being around more, despite Sans’ earlier insistence that it’s fine. To your relief, it isn’t long before the clock strikes four, ending your shift. As you punch out, you apologize to your boss on duty for any mistakes and promise you’ll give more focus next time. They say it’s fine and that everyone has those sorts of days, which should mean today didn’t put the chance of that promotion in jeopardy.

There’s enough daylight to get back to your apartment and change into some other clothing, but your brain tells you to get to Sans immediately, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t care at all about your choice of clothing. Keeping a fast pace, you turn the opposite direction from what you’d normally make after a shift, and begin your trek to the boat station at Hotland. It’s been too long since you and that hoodie of his have made contact, and that stops now.


	16. Dust in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After you've been away for nearly two weeks, Sans has been longing for a visit. As soon as Papyrus came to the shop and let you know about this, there wasn't a single thing in your mind telling you to not do so. Now that the shift's over, you embark to Snowdin, hoping your presence is exactly what he needs.

**Chapter 16 – Dust in the Wind**

You don’t take in much of the trip to the house. Even without considering how it’s definitely not the first time by now you’ve made this trip, you’ve got a nagging bit of guilt and fear that something’s gone wrong. All you can really do is kick yourself a little for taking that optional shift last Saturday, but without it seeming like there were any problems going on, the money was too good to turn down.

The familiar snowy ground of Snowdin soon reunites with your shoes, which admittedly feels refreshing after standing on concrete for most of the past two weeks. Your workplace really could use more carpets. Now’s not the time to ponder over carpentry, though, as you find yourself making more of a jog than a walk. The time itself might not have much of a difference for whatever speed you’re going at, but you remind yourself that every minute outside is a minute you’re not spending with Sans.

It’s only now that the cold starts to hit you with its full force. In your hurry to make it to the skeletons’ home, you didn’t realize the importance of going home to grab a jacket or hoodie for the weather. Sans might not be one to give outfit choice much attention, but he’d definitely want you to treat yourself with a little more care than that. Unfortunately, with how far you’ve already gone, turning back’s no longer an option. You swing over to the house, and see a note scribbled by the door knob. The handwriting’s not the best, but you can still make out what it says.

“I LEFT THE DOOR UNLOCKED FOR YOU, PROTAG. I HAD MORE ERRANDS COME UP, SO I SUPPOSE FRIDAY’S BECOME ROYAL GUARDSMAN SHOPPING DAY. ANYHOO, I FIGURED IT WAS THE RIGHT CHANCE FOR YOU AND SANS TO DO… WHATEVER IT IS ‘PEOPLE THAT CLICK WELL TOGETHER’ DO. YOU TWO HAVE FUN!” The steps leading from outside of the door should have been enough of a sign, but now you know what he’s up to. Not wasting any time, you pull the door open.

Sans is sitting on his own at the couch, twiddling his thumb bones a bit. At least from seeing the back of him, everything looks the same, so he definitely hadn’t gotten himself in any physical trouble over the past couple weeks. Papyrus wouldn’t have hidden something like that, anyway. Hearing the door open, he turns his head around and sees you, and then swings up from the couch.

“heya. glad to see ya around, protag. hope i’m not stopping you from getting the big bucks.”

“Oh, not at all, I’ve worked too much this week, anyway.” He makes his way towards you, and his close proximity reminds of you of just how short he is. The top of his head only makes its way to the top of your chest. Just as you’re thinking of that, though, in a sudden, unexpected impulse, he wraps his arms around you. You aren’t used to seeing him do things that personal, but if this is what he’s wanted for a while, you’re not gonna be the one to tell him to stop. Returning the favor, you wrap your arms around his shoulder and give a little pat, as his face presses into your body a bit.

“i dunno if i’m doing this right. not much of a hugger that often, but you get a pass.”

“It’s perfectly fine the way you’re doing it.” The tension in his arms relieves itself.

“How’ve you been, bud? You know I’ll listen to whatever’s on your mind.”

“well, the bad dreams are goin’ away. guess some human contact made a good cure for that.”

“That’s excellent news. The thought of you going through that another night would’ve put some real pain in my forehead.”

“heheh, the goal’s for that not to happen.” His voice isn’t sounding all that positive, though. It’s evident a piece of the puzzle’s missing.

“Something still wrong? I can hear it in your voice, doesn’t have that usual bounce to it.”

“didn’t know we hit the recognizing voice trends phase. clearly that means we’ve hit level eleven.” He chuckles a bit before quieting down. “well… yeah. even if i wanted to keep something hidden, i don’t think i could. i’ve let ya know me too well.” He lets go of the hug and sort of looks down towards his feet.

“the stuff from the nights decided it wanted to take day shifts instead. i’ll just be lazing around, having a typical day, and i’ll be about to head out to sell some ‘dogs, when the scares i dreamed about suddenly flash back into my noggin. i can’t get myself to go out ‘n do things when all i can think about is stuff going away. for the nightmares, at least i had that time with ya to give me something else to think about, but now there’s this new thing i have to tackle.” He looks up again. “…sorry to spit that all out as soon as ya got here. you’re a guest, not rocko.”

“Sans, it’s like I’ve said before. Don’t sell yourself short for anything, you’re worth more than that. How about we go sit down on the couch and talk about this? It’ll be a lot better than putting all your pressure on your feet for this.” He nods in agreement, and the two of you sit down on the old couch, as you make sure to completely avoid the hoodie this time.

“So, you’re saying that you have nothing to compare these bad memories to?”

“yeah, i suppose. there’s probably joke material in there about it stopping me from cooking ‘dogs when they ain’t ready yet, but you’re right. this is something i’ve gotta take more seriously.”

“If you’re okay with recalling, what kinds of things do you see?”

“bridges falling apart, collapsing trees, flowers... the same kinda stuff i told you about last time. not exactly the kinds of ideas to make me wanna go out and work.”

“Wait… what was that last part again?”

“flowers, like that one with the face that gave me my own little living hell. glad you never had to meet it face to face.” This reveal lets you piece something together. If being with him at the time of his nightmares managed to put them to rest, could something like that work for the day, too?

“And it was definitely a yellow flower?”

“yup. as yellow as the yellow snow outside. not one of those cool blue ones in waterfall that i can make echoing burps with.”

“Well, that’s an idea for the to-do list, and I’ll make sure we get to it, but that’s for later. I’ve read in some geography books about the Ruins having yellow flowers growing around. Do you know if there’s any truth to that?”

“i dunno why they’re there, but they are. ever since its few residents left, it’s been more dead than the treadmill in my room.”

“Then you and I need to go there together. I’m no psychology major, and I have much less experience with what monster psychology’s like, but if me being with you after your bad dreams made them go away, the memory of the two of us surrounded by those same kinds of flowers could be the cure. You haven’t had that positive memory to fight off the bad one yet.”

“that’s too deep for the crossword books to teach me about, so i haven’t got anything that says otherwise. you sure you wanna go there, though? it’d be an awfully boring way to spend part of your weekend.”

“Sans, I’m not going to let my closest friend suffer through bad flashbacks anytime he wants to make food and catch up with people. Besides, if I wasn’t here, I’d probably be laying around on my bed with no skeletons to pick a bone with, and you can’t see that as an entertaining evening, right?”

“good points. a bonely friday can’t be a great one.” You stand up from the couch.

“I don’t see any reason in waiting. I’m here in the flesh for your non-flesh, and the day’s not gonna last forever. Don’t want you passing out there and giving me an excuse to give you an escort home.”

“yeah, we don’t want anyone thinking you poisoned me out there. when i’m out, i’m **out**, so you couldn’t count on me as the right backup.” Sans pulls himself up from the couch as well, and you notice in the lighting that he doesn’t look nearly as tired as the last time you’d been together. It confirms his honesty, but you’d trusted him to tell the truth either way.

While getting ready to head to the front door, you notice that the closet door’s been left open. Not wanting any sort of breeze to knock the storage inside over, you turn towards it instead to shut said door, as you figured it would be common courtesy to. Before you shut the door, though, a box of old albums in the corner catches your eye. They’re all in fairly soggy boxes, so the dump must’ve done a number on them, but the front one is clean enough for you to still make out the band name: Kansas, a band that’d made their mark way back in the 70s and 80s. That was before your time, but you know some of their music, so it gives you an idea for after this venture to the Ruins, if it works.

_No_, you tell yourself. You can’t ponder over whether this little plan of yours is gonna pan out as expected or not. If it fell into place last time, there’s no reason it shouldn’t now, and you can’t go into this with the goal of helping your best pal without complete confidence. _This is going to work, and you won’t let yourself have a moment of hesitation._ By now, Sans was probably wondering why you were still standing by the closet door with your head down, so you shut it the rest of the way, keeping the firm reminder you established for yourself. Just then, you realize an important detail that’d slipped your mind.

“I hate to ask, but you’ll have to lead me to these flowers. I’d end up getting us lost. We can zap there or walk, I’m fine for whatever you have up those sleeves of yours.”

“we can stroll our way there. the ruins are cool to look at, as long as no brick are falling and giving ya a good ol’ bonk on the head.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what kind of power medical practice has down here, but a cracked up skull can’t be all that fun.” Sans shudders a bit, which is a given, with how sensitive his skull must be to possible accidents like that, but he shakes it off quickly. Neither of you want to chicken out before even making it out of the house.

“You ready?”

“as ready as this face can be.” Sans burps, and this one sounds a little forced, but it’s still very Sans of him. Together, you make your way out of the front door, and rather than turning left, you turn right for the first time. It’s not until now that you notice just how small town is; only about a minute or two of walking, and you’ve already reached the western edge of town. A long sign with the words “Welcome to Snowdin Town” hand-carved in it adorns the end, apparently welcoming anyone that comes from the barren lands ahead.

“it’s ‘officially’ called snowdin town here, but that’s just redundant. no one bothers.”

“I wouldn’t, either. I guess coming from a city called New Home doesn’t make me one to talk, but I agree.” The color and handwork of the sign makes it a nice touch despite the name, as the two of you pass by and enter the more densely forested part of the region. A long hanging bridge looms in front of you and Sans, effectively separating town from the rest of the nature. It’s slightly intimidating, but Sans keeps walking like it’s nothing, due to his years and years of making this walk each day. You can’t tell if him going first is to encourage you to keep going, or if he simply never noticed you stop, but it works in getting you to step on yourself. There’s a couple creaky noises, but the bridge feels completely sturdy. Halfway across, though, Sans comes to a stop.

“...darn. was hoping i wouldn’t think of my memories of bridges until later. protag, never overthink things.” It takes you a moment to figure it out, but then you recall what he’d said earlier in the day and the night a couple weeks ago about nightmares and visions of a bridge collapsing. You’d never asked if he had seen himself or someone he cared for on it, but either way, you can imagine why it’d make him tense up. Your first urge is to wrap your arm around his shoulder to help motivate him across the hanging bridge, but if he’s fixed on a bad memory, your better judgment understands that touching him without warning might not be the best idea, as relaxing as that would feel. The better way to approach it is asking him.

“Sans, do you need a moment, or do you feel ready to keep going? I’ll be by your side.” He breathes in.

“…here, walk behind me. i don’t want seeing ya to set anything off, i’d end up shaking the bridge a lot, and that’s not the right way to treat someone new out here.” His logic makes sense, so you slowly step behind him to give him a clear view of what’s ahead. The tranquility seems to help him believe, at least for now, that there can’t be anything wrong, so he slowly proceeds. You follow his path, and it’s not long before his slippers are making contact with the snow again, your shoes following after. The cold winds while you were on the bridge didn’t make the most comfortable contact with your skin, but you’d read that the Ruins have a fairly temperate climate, so you don’t let yourself get concerned.

“thanks, protag. thought i was gonna have to ask for us to zap there instead, and then you wouldn’t get to see any of those terrifying tumbling bricks.”

“Haha, yeah, that’d truly be a shame.” With at least the sight of the bridge in the past, you and Sans continue on. The sounds from town have quickly fallen behind, and your ears are now greeted by only the crunching of the snow and the whistling breeze. The trees are more of the same from what surrounds town, but now it’s much easier to see them in their majestic entirety. Every branch from top to bottom has at least a little bit of white scattered across it, as if some giant bag of flour had been at work. As the two of you keep going, though, the trees grow to be more and more repetitive, and your attention turns towards the old puzzles scattered around the fields that Papyrus had made long ago.

“this was my brother’s color puzzle. all the tiles would become random colors, and they’d all do a different thingamabobber. here, lemme get the rules for you, they’re real simple.” Sans pulls a manual off the side of a machine that sits by the tiles. Oddly enough, it’s shaped like how Mettaton looked when he took off into the sky after the Halloween party. He hands the manual off to you, and you’re somewhat surprised to see it’s twenty pages long. You can tell from the handwriting that Papyrus made it, and it looks like he went through any possible scenario of what happens when you stand on a block.

“the one time he got to use it, it made a perfectly straight path for the ambassador to walk across. perfectly straight, like one of those highways that ya got up on the surface. i dunno the math behind it, but it seems like that was practically impossible, judging by how my bro frantically asked me about it every night for at least a week after that.”

The tile puzzle proved to be the most interesting one. After that, the others included an X and O puzzle shaped like Papyrus’ face, a spot where Sans said he used to keep a word search, which you assured him was a perfectly suitable puzzle, and an electric maze. Before making it to the doors to the Ruins, there’s a couple of stations nearby that Sans explains were where him and his brother used to work.

“i don’t mean to give one of those ‘back in my day’ speeches, but when papyrus and i were sentries, this is where we’d sit around and wait to see if any humans came by. most days, it got real boring, but it was nice getting to be near him each day, even if most of the times he came over to me were when i passed out.”

“I mean, if it was really boring, it doesn’t sound like you were missing seeing all that much.”

“yup. don’t get me wrong, i tried, but if your guests were the same trees every day, you’d find yourself wanting to catch some zs, too.”

“I can imagine so. How’d you stick with it for so long?”

“the ‘dogs business and comedy kept me busy with enough other stuff. busywork isn’t the kind of thing for me, anyway, it’d have no soul in it. you’re the one that deserves all the kudos for working with those riveting boxes every day.”

“Aww, thanks. It’s not as bad as it seems, holidays spruce it up enough there, and it gives me a chance to see how more of Underground life works. A lot of this is still new to me.”

“true. it took a lot to adjust to life without constant snow and spraying ketchup over the ground being accepted behavior. guess i couldn’t do it.” You reassure Sans that there’s nothing wrong with him feeling more at home where he grew up, as you approach the doors to the Ruins. The books you’d read already didn’t do it justice; the doors are at least fifteen feet tall, made of some sort of purple-tinted wood, and have door knobs that only someone much taller than yourself would be able to reach with ease. They’d been open ever since the Barrier was broken, though, so that wasn’t a challenge you’d have to face. Glancing over at Sans, you see him staring out at the darkness inside of the doors, seeming ready to confront whatever was giving him his troubles. If he could do this, you’d do it with him, so you step into the doorway together.

It’s too dark to see any of your surroundings yet, but Sans insists you won’t die, so you don’t let yourself get worried. The black hallway continues on as the background of Snowdin disappears more and more, until you’re suddenly faced with a door. Going through, you and Sans are now surrounded by a better-lit purple hallway, with a staircase noticeable at the end. When you walk up it, though, you’re surprised to find yourself inside of a completely ordinary-looking home.

“this is where the queen used to live. think you woulda liked her, she has a knack for jokes like yours truly, and she makes the best pie. she’s a school teacher up on the surface now, though, so i’m happy for her. it’s what she’d always wanted.” There’s a living room to your right and a hallway to your left that presumably holds the bedrooms, but if someone used to live here, you can’t bring yourself to be invasive and look around its contents. The way out appears to be straight ahead, so you follow Sans out of the house into a typical porch, and the sight of a dead, dark tree. If the walls weren’t made of ageing purple bricks, this would seem exactly like an older house you’d see on the surface.

“i don’t think she comes by there anymore, but it’s best we didn’t mess with anything. before you know it, you could become renounced as a serial pencil thief.”

“Haha, yeah, that’s not my goal.” With no idea where you’re going, you follow Sans, who you’ve realized has mostly kept quiet about exactly what this place he’s mentioning looks like. You trust his word, though, so you continue to follow him. He was right about how old everything is; the walls are adorned with cracks and leaks, leaving a musty smell that’s not quite as strong as in Waterfall, but enough for you to pick up on. This all must be just about as old as when the war between humans and monsters ended.

“Any idea how she managed to live on her own here? It’s all so desolate.”

“magic can go a long way for the ones that master it. it’s not a gift i’ve really got, aside from whatever you’d call me being able to lift souls up, but maybe it’s for the better. with great power comes great responsibility, and all that, and i’d feel kinda bad if i could do that stuff but never chose to.”

“I don’t think I’d wanna do that, either. The fun of making food would go away if I knew there was a do-it-yourself button, so to speak.” While progressing through the Ruins, you notice some primitive puzzles, which explains the popularity they still have. There’s also a maze of red flowers that Sans has to help you navigate through so you don’t fall down any pits, and a **free to use** gumball machine. If you weren’t here to help him with his conflicts, you could spend all day exploring the nooks and crannies of this ancient place, but you remind yourself that that’s not the goal. The gumball machine reminds you that you didn’t bring any food with you, and with how deep the ruins are, it might be a while before you get the chance to eat again, but you forget about that when Sans says you’re almost there. The pathways become less and less detailed, as you draw farther down into where you figure the very beginning of monster civilization underground began.

The darkness from back at the entrance of the Ruins comes back as you make what turns out to be your final turn. Sans stops you as you make the turn and points ahead.

“…that’s it.” There’s a bed of yellow flowers in a circle, with a mysterious bright light cast over them. Slowly making your way to the flowers on your own and looking up, you see what looks like the interior of a giant mountain. This must be the inside of Mt. Ebott, and the first sight that the humans that fell down here all saw. It’s a towering height, so it’s astonishing that any of them were able to keep going after that kind of fall. Looking back at Sans, you see that he’s still standing where you left him, now with a hesitant expression on his face.

“What’s holding you up, buddy? There’s nothing harmful here, I’m standing around in these flowers just fine.”

“…that’s where the twisted one came from. the one that made me watch my brother die again and again, only to zip me back to the morning like nothing happened. my memories of that thing’s game aren’t the ones i want my head to recall.” Now, it made sense. If you were in his slippers, seeing something that brought back such terrifying thoughts wouldn’t make you want to approach it. Despite that, though, if Sans was going to lay those memories to rest, he had to have a better experience with these flowers firsthand. You gesture for him to come over.

“You’re going to be alright. I’m here with you, nothing’s going to go wrong. Besides, even if something did, who’s gonna be able to stop these?” You pretend to flex and hold your arms in a dramatic pose, but the sudden change in balance makes you tip over and land chest-first in the flowers. Seeing your sudden fall, Sans zips over to them, temporarily forgetting his fear. Feeling his hand on your shoulder, you sit up. There’s a bit of dirt on the front of your work shirt, but no rips.

“Don’t worry, Sans, I’m all good. Guess I let my boldness get the better of me.”

“heheh, i guess so.” He reaches his hand out to brush the dirt off. With you sitting down and him standing, it’s one of the first times you’ve looked upwards at him. It’s a nice view; for the first time, you get a complete look at what his upper vertebrae look like. As enjoyable as that is, though, you know it’ll be better for Sans if he sits down with you. You scooch back until you’re sitting in the middle of the flower bed, leaving Sans enough room to sit wherever he pleases. He still seems to show some restraint, but as you pat the ground by your side, he silently agrees and slowly sits down by you.

“See? That ended up being easy.” You pull your arms back and bask in the sunlight a bit, not used to not feeling it for such a long time.

“Do you ever wish this sunlight was easier to come by down here?”

“not r-really. what if i got sun bleached?”

“Good point, you don’t wanna get all whi- wait-” Only now does it hits you. “Welp, somehow let that one go in one ear and out the other. Maybe sunlight makes me dumb now.” Ready to change the subject, you run your hands through some of the flowers, feeling the soft petals against your fingers.

“These feel really nice. They’re a little wet, someone must still come by and water them.” Unknowingly to you, a Woshua watches from the corner. He smiles at your appreciation of his work, and walks off.

“Here, try it yourself, Sans. Not all flowers are gonna have faces.” Seeing you interact with the flowers makes him more confident in the thought of doing so. He glides his boney hand through them, and you can see in his fingers that he’s feeling a little more at ease. He speaks up.

“wait, don’t they make mustard out of yellow flowers? hope these aren’t mustard flowers, or else i’m working with the enemy.”

“Aha, don’t worry, that’s not what these are. They’re little sunflowers, that’s why you don’t find them anywhere else.” That’s when an idea hits you. If Sans’ fear comes from a diabolical flower, a bed of flowers might not be the best way to make this work. He needs to see a single flower to get a good memory to push out the awful one. _Whoever waters these could be a little ticked_, you tell yourself,_ but it’s for a good cause_. Reaching down with your left hand, you pluck the nicest looking flower from the very center of the bed. You put it up to your nose and give it a little smell, and immediately decide it’s better smelling than any surface flower you’ve come across. Once you’re done with it, you reach out to let Sans grab the stem.

“no, hold onto it. i’ve got an idea i think you’ll **dig** even more.” He grabs the top part of the stem while you continue to hold the bottom. It might look a little unorthodox, but it’s still sweet seeing his hand brush up on yours. He takes a good look at the center of the flower. No face, no plans to turn the world into its personal playground; it’s just a typical, peaceful flower, it’s petals swaying a bit from the wind coming from the top of the mountain.

“if i brought it home, filled a pot with some water, and set it next to rocko, do you think i’d get some sort of curse?”

“Nah, those kinds of things are wives’ tales. Rocko could use a friend, anyway.” That wasn’t something that had even crossed your mind, but it’s a great idea. Rather than just having to stick with this one memory, the flower at home could give Sans something happy that’s flower-related to do every day. The two of you sit together and quietly admire the flower, but after a little while, the sunlight starts to part. You don’t have a watch on you, but it must be getting to be evening.

“crud. this is real nice, but my bro has no way of getting ahold of me out here. who knows what he’ll do if he doesn’t have anyone to cook for, that’s as routine for him as breathing.”

“You’re right, we can’t deprive him of something that important. Was this enough for you for today?”

“it was. this lil flower should be the start of something nice. i’d name it, but i don’t want rocko to get jealous.” He stands up first, and you follow suit. There’s some dirt and a couple petals stuck on his slippers now, but that should come off after a few steps. While you could probably warp back to the house in a few seconds, the two of you agree that it’s worth giving the Ruins another look from a different perspective, especially since you’ve got no idea when you’ll be driven to return. As you begin to walk, though, you get a sudden recollection of the album that you saw in the closet back in the house. It’s time to put your little plan into action.

“Hey, Sans, I think we’re putting a little too much strain on this flower by holding it together. Why don’t you do the honors?”

“sharing’s been nice, but that’s true. i don’t think a dead flower’s what anyone’s gonna wanna see as soon as they enter my place.” You make sure to be standing to the left of him as you let go of the flower, and he moves it over from his left hand to his right. Without a moment of waiting, you grab the now empty hand and gently squeeze onto it. Sans looks at you with a face of mild surprise and is about to stop walking, but you keep going like nothing happened. Not wanting to put a stop to whatever’s on your mind, his face gets a little warm as he keeps walking to maintain your pace, his hand now grasping back at yours. To your relief, the entire set up for your plan had turned out perfectly, and you think back to the album and begin to sing along to a song.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVokojoF_lY>

It’s a classic that you’ve known as long as you can remember. Sans knows it by heart as well, having found that album in the dump when he was very young, and it’s a pleasant shock to hear someone he knows singing it.

“I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment’s gone… All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity…” Sans listens to you work through the first verse and chorus of this beautiful choice of a song before giving you a surprise of his own. He starts singing the second verse, and you let him have it to himself.

“same old song, just a drop of water in the endless sea… all we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see…” He sings in a smooth baritone voice, reminiscent of the trombone he played in the house. As he goes through the verse and chorus on his own, you notice the majestic way your voices bounce off the cavernous walls. There’s a bit of a silly moment where he’s humming the bridge as you walk through the former queen’s old house, but every musician makes sacrifices. Once the bridge is done, the two of you share a glance, and silently agree to do the final verse together.

“Now, don’t hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky…”

“it slips away, and all your money won’t another minute buy…”

“Dust in the wind… All we are is dust in the wind…”

“all we are is dust in the wind…”

“Dust in the wind…”

“everything is dust in the wind…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All rights to Dust in the Wind go to Kansas, I have no association with the song.)


	17. Beside You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to the Ruins was something Sans definitely needed. It'll ideally give him better memories to push away the harmful ones, and he even got a flower and some singing out of it. It's your hope that this is able to lead into a fulfilling weekend for him and yourself... and you can't leave out Papyrus, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that your name goes wherever ‘Protag’ is!

**Chapter 17 – Beside You**

The singing may have ended, but you and Sans keep your hands together for the rest of the walk to his home. Just like the last time you held his hand, it’s a lot colder than yours, but after a few minutes, you can feel some of the warmth from yours coming off onto it. Together, you and the skeleton observe all the ancient surroundings, now much easier to concentrate on them, with the mental barriers from earlier being gone. Sans isn’t one to be all that mushy, though, so it doesn’t take long for him to break the quiet of the scenery.

“flowers aside, this place is more dead than those ancient books at the librarby.”

“How’re they dead if you can still check them out?”

“they’re dead in spirit, protag. one touch, and their **spine** would fall to pieces.” The power of literature strikes again. You and Sans laugh hand-in-hand, as he makes jokes of a similar caliber the rest of the way out of the Ruins.

The brightness coming from the snow is welcoming. While the Ruins might be a neat piece of history, staying out there for a while would likely make any human or monster pretty bleak. No snow skeletons to make there, anyway. With that in mind, the crunch of the snow is welcoming to both you and Sans, as you reluctantly let go of each other’s hands. You both really enjoyed the feeling, but it’s not worth the two of you slipping around and falling on the upcoming ice.

“Any idea what your brother’s making tonight?” The two of you reach the ice and begin to cautiously slide across it while chatting.

“’ghetti.”

“Well, of course I know it’s spaghetti, but what kind of spaghetti?”

“oh, i’ve got no idea. you didn’t think he spoils it for me every day, right? it’s like a movie, you don’t wanna go into it knowing the noodle-filled ending.”

“Fair enough. If it’s the same kind of dish nearly each night, part of the thrill’s gotta be waiting to see what he thinks up.”

“it’s a reasonable question, though. guess you could say it’s a strong icebreaker.” He stomps hard on the ice and makes the tiniest crack in it, but with his foot in a slipper, you weren’t expecting much else. His chuckle afterwards travels a bit in the whistling air, and it’s music to your ears. No matter how many times you’d heard it, that natural little laugh always raises your spirits.

By this point, there isn’t much to see, so you aren’t exactly sure why Sans insisted on walking back. It isn’t long before the hanging bridge comes up, though, and Sans’ reasoning comes to light. After what happened last time, you stop by the front of the bridge, but he keeps walking. It takes a few seconds for him to notice and turn around.

“whassa holdup, protag? the sight of a bridge makes ya freeze up? what kinda bozo would get like that?”

“…Sans, you…” For a moment, some frustration builds, before you remember who you’re talking to. Sans pulled your leg hard enough to almost make you forget he’s completely comfortable going over the bridge now. Smiling and shaking your head a bit, you catch up with him on the bridge, and have an uneventful walk across. By this point, you’ve just about reached town, so zapping over isn’t needed. You’d only shave off a minute of time, and it could wear Sans out, so there’s no reason to. The ‘Welcome to Snowdin Town’ sign is still where you left it, in its typically unpronounced form, and before you know it, the ambience of town is back.

“phew. some townsfolk are still out ‘n about. it’d really wear my bones down if i found out i missed bedtime.”

“How do you still find more bone material for your jokes? If I were in your slippers, I’d have gone through every idea in the book by now.”

“i’ve **sole**ly been made of bones my whole life. it’s easy for me to rib them out.” Trying to figure out his secrets would be like trying to stop a moving train, so you leave it at that. The smells from Grillby’s are incredibly enticing, but with the vision of Papyrus happily watching you and Sans eat his cooking together, you press on and try not to look much at the front doors. Maybe next time. Sans approaches the porch first, and opens the door for you like a true gentleman… or is it gentleskeleton? He probably wouldn’t mind either of those.

“Hey, Papyrus!” As expected, he’s standing around in the kitchen, seemingly watching over something.

“GREETINGS, PROTAG!! I’M PLEASED TO SEE YOU DIDN’T CATCH ANY FROSTBITE OUTSIDE, I DOUBT I COULD BE CAPABLE OF TREATING THAT.”

“heyo, bro.” Sans comes in behind you and shuts the door, and only now do you realize again how chilly it was out. “sorry to leave ya hangin’ by a finger, didn’t have an ear to reach out to about being gone.”

“WELL, AS LONG AS PROTAG DIDN’T HAVE TO HEAR EXCLUSIVELY BODILY JAPES THE ENTIRE TIME, I HAVEN’T BEEN HOLDING ANY WORRY AT ALL.”

“ya haven’t?”

“NOPE! I ASSUMED THE TWO OF YOU ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE BEEN HAVING A GREAT TIME TOGETHER, IF THE SUCCESSFUL FRIENDSHIP PERCENTAGE HAS WORKED OUT FOR SO LONG.”

“huh. can’t say i’m used to that, but i’m glad everything’s smooth as silk.” His nose hole starts making sniffing noises. “whatcha making?”

“AH, YES! IT’S A BRAND NEW IDEA, ONE THAT I AM CERTAIN I HAVEN’T TRIED BEFORE. COME SEE FOR YOURSELVES!” He eagerly gestures for you and Sans to see what he’s made, and you oblige. For some reason, you think it smells like chocolate when you come over… and looking down, you find that to be true. A chocolate gooiness is coating the stringy noodles, still being kept warm by the oven.

You’ve been in the Underground long enough to know to not judge something like this at first sight, so you try to reason with it. Chocolate pizza is a growingly common thing on the surface, and if it and spaghetti both have Italian roots, they can’t be _that_ different. Besides, it’s not like he coated with marinara and then put chocolate on it; it’s just that one flavor. At least to you, it smells like dark chocolate, so if that’s the case, it’s an additional bonus.

“This looks really neat, Papyrus! I’m greatly looking forward to the first bite.” You hadn’t forgotten Sans’ request to always encourage Papyrus for his cooking.

“couldn’t agree more. ‘twas real **sweet** of ya to put this together.” Papyrus groans a little, but he appreciates the kind words from his brother and yourself. The table’s already made, and Papyrus encourages you both to sit down, insisting he can serve everyone just the right amount of chocolate. Only a moment later, he cautiously carries over three large, steamy bowls of the pasta, flooding the room with even more of the scent. Since you’re the guest, Papyrus encourages you to try it before he’s even sat down, and you oblige.

“WELL? DID MY CREATION MEET ALL THE EXPECTATIONS?” He’s making a bit of a bouncing motion in anticipation. The taste is certainly… unique, so you aren’t sure what kinds of expectations you had to begin with, but it’s certainly not bad. While a mixture like this might be too off the wall for the surface to give a shot, Papyrus’s creativity was worth the effort; the soft pasta mixed with the now-confirmed flavor of dark chocolate works together quite nicely. Since it takes a while to chew the stuff, you hold out a thumbs up while continuing to swallow it. Sans is waiting for his brother to sit down before beginning his, but he’s pleased to see your steady encouragement.

“YIPPEE!! ANOTHER DISH TO ADD TO THE ROTATION! THANK YOU FOR THE FEEDBACK, PROTAG, ONLY THE FINEST DISHES ARE ALLOWED IN THIS HOUSEHOLD.” He sits down, which leads Sans to take his first bite as well. If the sight of noodles running through the splits between his teeth wasn’t amusing enough, all the chocolate appears to come with it, not leaving a single stain on that grin of his. It must still take some time for his body to absorb the contents, though, as he holds up a thumbs the same way you did. Papyrus starts going to town on his own bowl, and with a moving jaw, it doesn’t take him as long to work through each wad of spaghetti he’s spun around his fork. He doesn’t ask for any details about whatever you and Sans were out and about doing, but the little kick he gives to your leg followed by a relieved smile is enough to show his thankfulness.

* * *

The next couple nights and days are spent with the three of you all in the house together. While you could’ve cozied up in Sans’ room overnight, he understood the importance of showing you he’s capable of a comfortable night of sleep on his own. With that in mind, he laid out some sheets for the couch to make it a bed again, and slept on his own. There’s no interruptions overnight, though, and when he comes down the following morning, he’s able to honestly say that he had a relaxed night of rest.

Together with the skeleton brothers, the weekend becomes a very relaxed one. Without the workplace nearby, there’s no looming threat of being convinced to come in for more hours, which is a needed relief. Sunday afternoon in particular is especially great; you make your own snowman while Sans and Papyrus made their own snow creations, just on the outskirts of town. All the snow is easy to compact, making putting one together much easier. The efforts of each snow-being could be put on a scale; Papyrus makes a muscular version of himself striking a dramatic pose, yours is a traditional snowman, smiling with an arm waving up, and Sans’ is a ball of snow with his name written in ketchup. He claims the ball is much more circular than the lump of snow he’d typically put together, and he’s moved from writing in marker to ketchup, so you can’t argue that it’s not progress.

On both evenings, Papyrus decides to get you well-versed in Mettaton’s wide library of movies. Meeting him seemed to have grown his fan craze, so showing you some movies was partly an excuse for him to watch them again. Sans had sat through most of them before as well, simply because there weren’t any other stars to watch before the Barrier was broken, but it’s more time with his brother and closest friend, which is never a bad thing. Mettaton’s personality doesn’t knock your socks off, but his flexibility is admittedly really impressive.

While you near the end of yet another one of the films, though, Mettaton checking his clock to realize he only has two minutes to get away from a bomb explosion reminds you of your shift that’s scheduled for tomorrow. You’d already had dinner a bit ago, as Papyrus figured the rest of the chocolate spaghetti was good enough to heat and have a second time, so there’d still be enough time to get back to the apartment before it gets tremendously late.

You don’t say this out loud, of course, as Papyrus seems nothing but dialed in to the film at the moment. A glance over at Sans, though, puts reservations on your plans. His head seems to be bouncing up and down a bit, not from a lack of sleep, but from presumably knowing exactly how the rest of this film was going to go. The thought of leaving him on his own for the week after this movie, even if the flower was now sitting in a vase to accompany him, was impossible to shake off.

They’d both told you on numerous occasions that you’re welcome over whenever you’d like, so an extended weekend could make everyone’s week. From what you could recall, you’d never called off a day of work in the past, anyway, so why not now? Nudging over to Sans a bit, you whisper your idea so Papyrus can’t hear, and he replies by dramatically bending over towards your ear and whispering “nice cream.” You figure that’s some sort of code way of saying yes, so you can laugh and stop his brother from wondering what’s going on. If that was his plan, it worked, as Papyrus stays glued to the screen. Once that’s sorted out, you sneak off the couch, Sans now knowing to tell his brother you “went to the bathroom” if he asks. Once the store picks up your call and you explain you’re suddenly away from town, they trust your answer enough to give the ok. Saying thanks and returning to the living room, you see the TV rolling the credits.

“PROTAG! YOU MISSED THE FABULOUS ENDING WHERE METTATON DISCOVERS-” He pauses. “WELL, I SUPPOSE IT WOULD BE QUITE RUDE OF ME TO TELL YOU THE ENDING, BUT NOW YOU’LL HAVE TO WATCH THE WHOLE THING AGAIN TO HAVE THE FULL EXPERIENCE!” He hits the rewind button, and the tape starts showing everything again in reverse, so you make sure to look away from it.

“My apologies. Didn’t mean to skip out on the fun, but I was setting something up you’ll really like.”

“OH? WHAT MAY THAT BE?”

“Asked work if I could take tomorrow off. Thought two days wasn’t enough for us to have the most fantabulous experience together. Sorry for not asking prior, but I asked your brother, and he answered on your behalf.”

“he’s bein’ honest, paps. figured there was a ninety nine percent chance you’d say yes.”

“…CONGRATS, THEN! YOU WERE LEAST NINETY-NINE PERCENT CORRECT! MISSING THE END OF A METTATON MOVIE MIGHT STILL BE A TRAGEDY, BUT IF IT’S FOR THE TERRIFIC TRIO TO SPENT ANOTHER TREMENDOUS TUESDAY TOGETHER, THAT’S A WORTHY SACRIFICE!”

“tomorrow’s monday, bro.”

“SANS, SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO MAKE A SACRIFICE FOR ALLITERATION, AND THE CORRECT DAY OF THE WEEK HAPPENED TO BE WHAT I GAVE UP.” A thump noise signals that the tape’s done rewinding. Papyrus zips over to the TV to pull it out, as Sans returns to the closet to grab the sheets again. Flapping his arms down like they’re noodles, he tosses them over the old couch.

“guess you’ve really blanketed us in human-time this weekend.”

“It’s like skin. Sometimes some more _layers_ around the house can do the trick.” There’s nothing better than making bed jokes with a friend to end a long day.

* * *

“hey. protag. hate to ask a guest this, but ya gotta get your hide outta the sheets.”

“…Hrmph? Sans?” Your blurry morning vision is still able to make out a shade of blue under a white circle. That’s good enough to tell which skeleton it is.

“yup. it’s me. sorry to break up your date with sleep, but i had a question.”

“Sans, I… *yawn*… wouldn’t be dating any dream people behind your back, especially after our lil’ flower outing a few nights ago.” Your tiredness makes it harder for your filter to kick into gear. .” Hearing that makes Sans look away for a moment and scratch the back of his skull, but he soon looks back.

“…oh. well, we can talk later about if that falls under the official date standards once ya got some coffee in your system.” He stops and looks over your sheets, one of which was ready to fall off the couch at any second.

“almost forgot what i was gonna say, but it crawled back to me. i’ve had a deal planned up for the ‘dog station for a couple-a days now. buy one, get one free. truly groundbreaking stuff.”

“Sounds like a solid idea. Should help you *burp* sell a lotta ‘dogs.”

“that was close, ya almost put a wrench in what i was plannin’ to say, but i can recover. the problemo on my palms is that there’s sometimes too many customers, and they get left in line for a long while. i’d be a real mus**turd** to let that happen again, so i was wonderin’ if you’d wanna come with and help me make ‘em. you’d get to learn all the secrets behind the ‘dog.” _That_ idea sure woke you up a bit more.

“You’d be willing to drop the secrecy of your hot-dog making for me?”

“sure would, buddyo. i trust ya to not spill the beans over the ‘dogs, nor about them. it’s like papyrus said last night, ya gotta make sacrifices sometimes, and i’ll do that if it means we get to make the good stuff together and faster than before.”

“As long as that’s absolutely what you want, then I’d love that. We’ll be the best dog-making tag team the Underground’s ever seen.”

“i dunno if there’s ever been a team before, but that means we’d be both the worst and the best. nothin’s better than setting two records by only doing one thing.” Turning yourself around, you step off the couch, only for your foot to plant onto one of Sans’ dreaded whoopee cushions. He hadn’t gotten you with that trick since your trip to the Dip, so if anything, it all but confirms he’s back to his old self.

“Drat. I’ve been taken out by the legendary whoopee cushionist once again.”

“heh, i like that. mind if i steal it?”

“Not putting any trademarks on that. Use it as you wish.” The noise from the whoopee cushion makes you expect Papyrus to come by at any moment, but he doesn’t.

“Do you know where your brother’s gone?” Sans has already started in the direction of the coffee maker, which sounds like a great idea right about now, so you follow suit.

“he’s petitioning around the neighborhood for a new year’s party next month. we haven’t had a truly bonkers one since when all the monsters lived down here, but now that enough have moved back, he thinks another one would be a great way for everyone to bond together again. the way to do that, of course, is through fireworks and puke-inducing amounts of food.”

“Sounds like a great experience to me, can’t see why anyone wouldn’t agree to that. If the surface has its own share of huge New Year’s celebrations, and the Underground’s all about having fantastic ones, it’d be a real party-pooper if anyone said no.”

Sans pours his own coffee, and hands off a second mug. “yuppers, i’m sure he’ll get everyone to agree. he used to be the underground’s mascot, if anyone knows how to do some mighty fine persuasion, it’s him.” Once his typical five sugar packets have been unloaded into the cup, Sans drinks from it rapidly. Figuring he wants to get to his station as soon as he can, you do the same. It might be a little hot, but Underground food’s increased your heat tolerance, among other things. It’s not long before both mugs are drained, and Sans once again takes them both up himself, not wanting to lose his new coworker before his first day even starts. With no closet doors open to discover something behind and then close, you skedaddle out of the kitchen and throw your shoes on. Instead of going through the door again to leave, Sans comes towards you.

“time for that warp ya ordered yesterday. sorry if it’s gotten cold by now, never threw it in the oven.” Laughing a bit, you hold out your wrists and he grabs on to them. As he closes his eyes to zap away, though, he whispers something with such speed that it’s almost impossible to make out:

“you’vegotthemostbonetasticwristsmybuddyo.” Before you can make out whatever that was, your surroundings are engulfed by blue light and darkness for a couple seconds, before reappearing in Hotland. It’s only now that you realized the danger of his trick; a little farther behind the station, and you’d be plunging into the magma.

“Glad you’ve got a great internal compass.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, i make sure to update it every day.”

“What was that thing you said before we took off, though?”

“thing? can’t recall any particular thing, bud, maybe the light tripped ya out.” His growing grin breaks anything he might be trying to hide. Suddenly, the grin turns a little south.

“darn. left the extra grill at the house. can i trust ya to survive here for twenty seconds or so?”

“I’ll do my best.” He closes his eyes again and disappears into the great nothingness, leaving the pops coming from the magma as the only noises. It’s not long before he abruptly comes back, though, now holding a heavy grill in his hands.

“hey, protag, hate to bruise ya, but could ya lend a hand with this? a broken femur’d be an easy way to have to call my day short.” You happily agree and grab the bottom of the grill while he holds the top, and slowly walk over to the left of the station and set it down. It smacks the ground with a resounding thud, but nothing falls apart.

“So, this is where the magic happens?”

“yup. probably best i don’t talk your ear off explaining how it works, you actually need those. gonna open up soon, watch what i do for the first order, and that big brain-o yours should figure it out.” He flips a couple knobs on his larger grill behind the station and the smaller one, and they both flick on. The fire’s not blue, so this kind might be natural. Once they’re on, he hangs up a little sign that says “buy a dog, get another dog today. grab one before it becomes a dogless wasteland.” He also pulls out a little brick-shaped piece of electronics from a hoodie pocket.

“behold, the dinkiest little radio ever built. it’s not much, but i figured some music would be better than just a buncha blobby noises.” He flicks a switch with his thumb, and a slightly muffled radio station starts playing. Sounds like he turned it on right when the next tune was beginning.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIE-6w72bDo>

It’s a newer song than the one from last Friday, and once again, you recognize it from the Surface. Certainly not as much of a song to hold hands and sing away troubles to, but it’s still got a memorable rhythm to it. It’s not very loud, with how small the radio is, but the conversations with customers’ll be the most important thing, anyway.

“my bad if ya can’t hear it, the record player’s too fragile for me to carry around. no broken feet today.” The burners in the grill have started to kick into gear, and even without any hot dogs on them, the smell is definitely one to draw people in. Sans’ decision to get here early-ish on a Monday morning was smart; there’s bound to be plenty of hungry workers eager to grab a bite before or during their work. Surely enough, it’s not long before a fairly tall monster that looks sort of like a dragon walks by, in the middle of calling someone on a huge flip phone. He stops in his tracks, though, after smelling the aromas of the grill.

“…Hey, sorry to burst your bubble, but I gotta go. Urgent work business came up. Good luck with the exam today, pal.” The monster hangs up and hurries over to the station.

“perfect. protag, watch the magic at work.” He turns towards the monster, who now has his head stretched high above both Sans and yourself. “heya, bud. care for any hot-dogs? buy one, get one today, you ain’t gonna find a better deal anywhere else on this road.” There’s no competition, as far as you can tell, so he’s not wrong.

“Absolutely, I’ll take two, please. We’ve had some issues with old lasers we thought were defused turning back on. Gonna be a long day getting all the kinks sorted out.” Lasers? Nothing from your experience had said Hotland was once a dangerous place to live, aside from the obvious threats of the magma.

“yeesh, that can’t be fun. thanks ‘n advance for your help with that, the only fryin’ today should be the food, not some chap trying to take a walk.” Pulling a cooler out from under the station, he grabs some prongs and sets a pair of hot dogs on the grill, as they quickly begin to sizzle. The soccer mom chair's still there for him to use, but you hadn't thought to ask if there's any extras back at the house. If a busy day's ahead, you don't want to cut into the business flow by asking for another zap back, so you decide to suck it up and try to learn to become a Hotland ground enthusiast instead.

“hey, protag, could ya grab the buns ‘n ketchup from by my feet? i’ve gotta be a proud parent of these ‘dogs for a whole minute.” Not wanting to risk the hot dogs becoming a sizzling mess, you reach down and grab the hot dog supplies. They look just about the same as what you’d have on the surface, aside from the packaging being more colorful. For something like a hot dog, though, not much change could be a good thing. It only takes a few seconds for all the materials to be promptly set up in front of Sans.

“thanks, bud. this masterwork of a food wouldn’t-a gotten done without your help.” The hot-dogs have cooked enough, so Sans pulls them off the grill, plops them into the buns and makes some very straight lines with the ketchup. While paying attention to his work, the other monster speaks up.

“Huh, what do ya know, a human. Knew some moved down here, but I hadn’t talked to one yet. Kind of you to help your friend out.”

“Thanks. Heard he’s the best at this stuff, so why not help make greatness happen?” It’s never a bad time to promote Sans’ business. You do your best to make eye contact with the monster while still watching Sans squirt the ketchup.

“If these are as good as advertised, you’re the heroes of the day. Can’t be messing around with faulty electric equipment on an empty stomach.”

Sans finishes off the hot dogs and hands them off. “here’s your dogs. thanks for the business, every g helps makes a skele-ton of a difference.” The monster laughs and hands off the 30G, thanks you and Sans, and walks off at a fast pace, eating as he moves. A monster you’d never met before being able to have a perfectly normal conversation with you makes you wonder how humans could have begun a bloody war with them, but now’s not the time to make Sans listen to that.

“got a good idea of how it works?”

“Yeah, should be able to get one down to the last pinky.”

“good, cause the demo’s over. it’s about to get mega crowded, so i hope you’re a fast learner.” He hands you his backup prongs, which seem to have gotten more use over the years, as well as your own ketchup bottle. By the time you look up, his point’s been proven true. There’s already a small crowd of workers coming out of the elevator in the distance. Now that the aroma of the hot dogs is swirling around in the air, along with the faint song playing from the speaker, not one monster doesn’t stop at the station.

“here’s some dogs. make as many as ya can, everyone’s getting the exact same thing today. no time for fancy ketchup lines, that’ll be lesson two.” He pushes the cooler to sit between you and him, and you reach down for some hot dogs with the prongs to get them cooking. Since Sans has plenty of experience with this, he handles the talking and makes sure to give every customer some genuine and **humerus** conversation, letting you stick to the work. The growing crowd up front adds some pressure, but it’s not long before you establish a consistent rhythm of making hot-dogs and handing them off to your partner in crime.

“here’s your ‘ ‘ dog. short for apostrophe-apostrophe-dog.” For the regulars, Sans is able to make some more off the wall jokes, and they seem to appreciate it. The mix of busy work and casually listening to Sans’ conversations makes the time move quick, as droves of customers continue to move in and out of the area. Some of them say thanks to you as well after getting their food, which is pleasant to hear, but what you take away from it all the most is how admirable Sans’ work is. No matter how many customers he has, he gives each one the same level of humor and discussion, like he’s seeing an old friend for the first time in a long while.

It’s now that your mind goes back to the song from earlier. ‘Heaven Beside You’… Did the radio somehow predict you having a pleasant day with someone that means a lot by your side? As far as you know, Sans isn’t a mechanic, so he wouldn’t know how to rig up a radio to play whatever station he wants. Maybe underground stations have a way of watching over those who listen. Regardless, the thought’s a nice touch for the hard work you’re accomplishing together. After another hour passes, there’s only two dogs left, which is convenient enough, as only one customer’s currently in line. You let Sans have the honors of making them, and watch him work at his craft. Both of you bid the monster farewell, as they meander off with two of their four hands holding the food.

“welp, i’d consider that some meaty business.” He holds up the jar he’d been collecting G in, which is now filled to the brim with glimmering coins. You’re not sure how things like mortgages work in a town as small as Snowdin, but it should definitely be enough to fund a couple months’ worth of spaghetti and any extras Papyrus decides to mix in with it.

“You’ve got some good self-marketing. They must like your conversationality, and want to keep coming back.”

“’suppose. like i said last time, having some others to talk with’s a lot better than fartin’ around on my own. smells better than wet slippers, too.” He reaches back down under the station and pulls out a much smaller cooler that you hadn’t noticed earlier.

“always keep a couple backups in here. hope a ‘dog suffices as pay, unless you want a handful of g as a side dish.”

“Keep all of it, I don’t need any extras. The experience was what had the most value.” His hand’s on the jar, but Sans sees your genuine expression and holds off on it. He pulls off the ‘open’ sign and is about to set the hot-dogs on his grill, when something falls into your head.

“Sans, I just realized something.”

“uh oh, did i have the knob on broil all day? i’d be too disgraced to ever do this again.”

“No, not that, your cooking was excellent. It’s that you’ve been looking down all day. Doesn’t that kill your neck?”

“well, it-” Sans stops for a moment to think about it. “…solid point, actually. don’t have any muscles back there like you to support it, so i guess i give myself quite the vertapain each time.”

“want a little rub back there? Another pair of hands might do the trick.”

“hmm… i wouldn’t let a rando rattle my bones, but i trust ya to not do anything too crazy. help yourself.” He switches the grill off and looks towards you instead. Wasting no time, you reach to the back of his neck and give each vertebraa a gentle rubbing. You’ve never interacted with a monster like this before, let alone one with no muscles, so you aren’t entirely sure if it’s the right thing to do, but it feels close enough. Sans begins to look towards the ground with less of a smile than usual, though, and it makes you wonder if you’re doing it all wrong. You slow it down, but then he looks up at you while his head's still down in the most adorable fashion.

“…please keep going.” Welp, that puts that idea to rest. You keep up with it, getting a little closer while working up and down the neck bones and shoulders, trying to relieve any tension that might’ve built up from his work… well, at least that was the goal at the beginning. Instinct kicks in, and your hands move up towards where his neck meets his head. He doesn’t stop you for a moment, as you do your best to soften up the back of his skull.

“…oh, geez… no one’s ever done something like this, don’t think i realized how cramped up it’s been back there for years…” His looseness makes him bring his hands up to yours, now directing them towards his cheeks.

“…what’d i do to wind up getting treated like this?” His eye sockets get droopy from the touch, while the grill continues to be forgotten as you coat his face in comfort.

“...pal, you’re way too nice to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an important thanks I have to give for the making of this chapter. My friend, Sim_Human, proofread it for me and gave me advice for some extra touches, she's started up her account recently and I highly suggest checking out her current and future works.  
https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sim_Human  
(All rights for Heaven Beside You go to Alice in Chains, I have no association with the song.)


	18. Wrong Kind of Work Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending the day making hot dogs with Sans was completely worth taking work off, and then some. You got to see his skills and commitment to making customers smile first-hand. It's about time to head back to the house for the evening, the perfect place to decompress after all that ketchup-squirting.

**Chapter 18 – Wrong Kind of Work Break**

The mutual feelings from the neck and head rubs were fulfilling enough to last all night, but if they didn’t stop, Papyrus would be left alone all night. Sans was already back later than usual a few days ago, so he didn’t want to let the same thing happen. Without explaining, he lightly pulls your hands off his cheeks and lowers them towards your waists.

“that really loosened me up. hope i don’t pass out in that dark realm, or it might be a little while ‘til we get out.” It’s a scary visual to think of, but Sans doesn’t look like he’s about to drop asleep, so it’s probably an exaggeration. Giving a tighter hand squeeze than usual, he sends you both into the darkness for a moment, before reappearing in front of the house.

“once, i made the mistake of warping into the kitchen when papyrus was doing his cooking. long story short, hoodies and boiling water don’t mix. one less for the tornado now.”

“Did it hurt?”

“nah, i didn’t get any bone bruises. the hoodie went out a warrior.” Sans opens the front door, and Papyrus is sitting on the couch, flipping through a set of papers with a big smile on his face. You’ve got a good feeling you both know what it means, but hearing it out loud could really make Sans proud. The older brother happens to speak up first.

“heya, papyrus. sorry to leave ya on your own for a bit, we had some real **crummy** business to take care of.”

“OH, IT’S NO PROBLEM, BROTHER! I WAS KEPT BUSY, ANYWAYS, LEARNING JUST HOW GREAT AND NOT SO GREAT THE TOWN’S HANDWRITING IS! BEFORE I GET INTO THAT DEBACLE, THOUGH, HOW DID YOUR SALES COME ALONG?”

“excellent, we made a skele-ton for your cooking needs. we were almost guilty of creating an underquake, though, with how crowded it got. without protag around, you’d probably have heard a headline by now.”

“Had a great time being his partner in crime, suppose you could say we really brought in the **bread** today.” You give Sans a gentle elbow in the ribs, and he does the same.

“Heard you were getting signatures around town for a New Year’s event. Do the papers mean good news?”

“YES! NOT A SINGLE HOUSEHOLD DISAGREED. IT APPEARS THIS SPECTAULAR FESTIVAL IS GOING TO HAPPEN, AND IT WILL BE RUN BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I PROMISE YOU BOTH THAT IT WILL BE THE GRANDEST CELEBRATION OF RECYCLING-OLD-CALENDARS DAY YOU’VE EVER SEEN!” He strikes a dramatic pose and his cape flaps behind him, despite the house having no breeze to push it back.

“wowzers, congrats, bro. with that kind of swaying power, you could ask everyone to make it a law for the mtt hotel to bring back those chocolate mints. you wouldn’t get a single no.”

“PERHAPS I CAN MAKE THAT MY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION. RATHER THAN CHANGING SOME TRAIT ABOUT MYSELF, WHY NOT BRING BACK THE GIFT OF A SATISFYING MINT TO EVERYONE’S MEAL?”

“couldn’t agree more.”

Papyrus proudly holds out the papers to show his honesty, which you had no doubts for to begin with. What he said about the different handwriting makes sense; some of the signatures look like they were practically made with a compass, while you’ve got no guess what any letter is for some of the others. At the very least, they’re so scribbly that no one could ever forge it, unless there’s someone in the Underground with a frightening gift like that.

“wait, bro, you almost forgot a house.”

“I DID? I COVERED EVERY SQUARE FOOT OF TOWN, I COULDN’T HAVE MISSED ANYONE’S ABODE.”

“just one.” Sans grabs the pen off of the couch and scribbles his name on the paper. it’s at least better than the unreadable ones, and he wasn’t writing on a flat service, so if you had a hat on, you’d tip it.

“ours. what if rocko didn’t want fireworks around? the rocks have feelings, too.” Keeping a sarcastic tone, he walks to Rocko’s table and slowly pets them.

“fortunately, i asked earlier, and he said yes. no rocks are breaking your hundred-percent success rate today.”

“PHEW! MY APOLOGIES, ROCKO. I DIDN’T MEAN TO TREAT YOUR THOUGHTS AS ANY LESS THAN OURS.” You can’t tell if he’s playing along with Sans’ joke, or is thoroughly bummed about not asking the rock for their opinion.

The three of you have a pleasant afternoon, discussing how Papyrus went about getting his signatures. He refuses to spoil any details for what he’s got in mind for New Year’s, but keeps saying that no one has ever seen a celebration like it. After the gooey experiments from over the weekend, it’s a bit of a relief to see that Papyrus made a regular spaghetti dinner tonight, with the freshest tomatoes and cheeses. It proves to be a satisfying dish, and it even makes a new topic, as the younger brother talks about how unhappy he is with Undyne still using store brand noodles.

While finding a way to stay at the house another night would be great, getting out of two work days in a row doesn’t seem like the best choice. As Papyrus makes the familiar climb up to the sink to wash the plates, you let the skeleton brothers know that now’s probably the best time to head out.

“darn. if i’d ever been where you stay, i could give you the vip trip there, but all i’d do is warp ya off into nothingness. sounds a little far from where you work.”

“SANS, DON’T TERRIFY PROTAG WITH THE FLAWS OF THAT UNUSUAL POWER OF YOURS.”

“hey, i’m just giving him a fair warning. don’t want him expecting a free ride home and then end up not getting it.”

“It’s all good, the trips are never something I’d demand. Besides, walking home gives me a chance to give the Riverperson company.”

“I’M SURE THEY APPRECIATE THAT. THEY’VE AT LEAST GOT ONE FRIEND IN THAT DOG BOAT OF THEIRS, BUT TWO MUST BE A LITTLE BETTER.”

“that breaks common law, papyrus. one’s the loneliest number of all, but two can be as bad as one.”

“SONG LYRICS AREN’T CONSIDERED ‘COMMON LAW’, SANS, NO MATTER HOW POPULAR THEY ARE.”

“even though everyone sang them on the surface when they’d walk around? you sure that didn’t mean they were letting everyone know the do’s and don’ts of the land?”

“OH, FORGET IT.” Papyrus climbs down the ladder and offers a hand shake, which you accept.

“THANK YOU FOR THE COMPANY, PROTAG, WE ALL HAD AN EXCELLENT TIME TOGETHER. I HOPE YOU FOUND METTATON’S MOVIES TO BE A SIGHT TO BEHOLD.” Not wanting to let Papyrus down, you say they were enjoyable, before shaking Sans’ hand as well.

“Thanks for letting me be your second in command for the hot dog stand, had fun exchanging buns all day.”

“only the best ones.” The handshake’s a little longer than a normal one, and you swear his long fingers are tightly gripping your hand to feel how warm it is, but he lets go before you can be sure. Giving the pair a ‘see you later’ wave, you turn towards the door and make sure Rocko gets another pat before leavng into the chilled air.

“protag, wait.”

“Hm?” You turn around to see what Sans wants, but he’s hurrying off to his room. A few seconds later, he comes down the stairs with a hoodie in his arms, and tosses it into your hands.

“you’ll want this for the walk home. living skeletons are the only ones the underground needs.” Appreciating his thoughtfulness, you throw the hoodie over your shoulders and zip it up. The smaller size means it just misses your waist, but it’s far better than just the shirt you’ve been stuck with the past few days.

“Thanks a bunch, Sans. Not a single thread’s gonna be in danger while I’ve got it on.”

“i’d hope so, not like i’ve got a whirlwind of ‘em to grab from.” You give each other a little point while Papyrus seems to slump over, accepting that his guest’s almost as much of a joke connoisseur as his brother. Managing to leave this time, the cold air greets you, but now it’s only on your face, rather than your arms.

Taking great care in making sure to not trip over with the hoodie on, the walk home is much cozier than the one into town. Without any freezing or running to do, your body’s not about to drop down from overworking itself. The Riverperson is once again at the town’s station, seeming to always be aware of when you’re about to arrive, and it’s a mostly silent ride back to Hotland. They says something about fashion always changing, but you aren’t paying much attention.

It’s now when you realize Sans’ scent comes off on the hoodie. Without any skin, you can’t say it’s like a smell you’ve noticed from anyone else; it’s mostly a mix of the hot dog supplies he works with, and some of the smell of the old couch at the house. There aren’t gonna be any candle companies making a wax from it, but the mix is incredibly comforting. The Riverperson’s thoughts on fashion get lost to the brisk air, but they’re more of a talker than a listener, anyway. They let you off at Hotland before blankly staring at the warm stones that surround the station.

The rest of the walk home is fairly giddy one, as your arms remain wrapped around yourself to get as much of Sans’ scent as possible. It’s something you’d only been able to get in the past when you were really close to him, so taking it around with you is a nice surprise for however long it is before you visit next. It might be boiling hot in Hotland with it on, but that’s the least of your concerns. As you pass through the rest of Hotland, enter New Home, and eventually make it to the apartment building, you’re feeling nothing but a sense of confidence about the weeks ahead.

Unfortunately, it’s the last day of the week you feel close to normal at all.

When waking up for work the following Tuesday morning, a congestion’s built up in yoru nose. It’s nothing incredibly distracting, so you power through it and go to work without saying a word about it, but it becomes an inconvenience when you’re moving boxes and have to set them down to deal with the growing clogged feeling. Despite the challenge, you’re able to get through the rest of the shift, and return home feeling mostly an annoyance. Sans’ surprise text that’s stuffed with box puns is a nice feeling, but that’s the only part of the day that brings a smile to your face.

Wednesday gets worse. Some of the congestion’s made its way down to the throat. You still push yourself to get to work, but there’s a couple times you answer a question from a customer or manager, and a cough comes out in-between words. It’s certainly not comfortable, but without any plans going on until the weekend, you press on. Part of you wants to call Sans and Papyrus to catch up on how their week’s going, but if they hear the coughs, they might get concerned about something that’s not much of a big deal, you tell yourself.

On Thursday, it _does_ turn into a big deal. The congestion’s completely enveloped your nose, throat, and respiratory system. Dragging yourself out of bed’s the hardest it’s been in a long time, and there’s no appetite in your gut for breakfast. How you managed to walk to work on time is a greater mystery, but it happens. Your managers show some visible concern as you sloppily punch in for the day, but decide to give it more time before speaking up.

It doesn’t take long to put together where this came from. Running through Snowdin to meet a lonely friend with nothing but a shirt and work pants on isn’t the best idea for someone’s health, no matter how much they care about said friend. If you’d gone back to grab a coat, there likely wouldn’t have been enough time to go to the Ruins, so you’re not mad at yourself, but the fates weren’t working in your favor.

Words on signs you’d been reading every day are now hard to make out, and the boxes all sort of seem the same, so a couple end up in the wrong spots. It all cultimates when a Woshua comes by and asks where they can find rubber duck polish. You manage about one word before letting out this disgusting hack, which you thankfully managed to cover with your elbow.

“Filth! Stay away!” The Woshua bolts to the other side of the store, now wanting to ask anyone else where the polish is. Usually, a monster wouldn’t be so jumpy about something like a bad sneeze, but Woshuas are a reasonable exception. A tall manager was in the aisle across from yours, though, and saw it all unfold. They come over and inform you that while you sticking to your shifts is admirable, it’s best for your health and the store’s stock if you take the rest of today and tomorrow off. If you were able to stay a little more focused, you might object, but the pain in getting words out leads you to agree. You shift over to the punch out machine, end your work day early, and make your way home.

Getting sick is something just about every human has to deal with from time to time, but the timing of this isn’t great by any means. Any weekend where getting to Snowdin isn’t an option isn’t the most entertaining one, and there was even an event here in New Home you’d been hoping to get to, too. A music festival’s starting up tomorrow night, and with music being one of your biggest interests, getting to see what the city has to offer would’ve been really engaging. There was also that acoustic guitar you’d started picking up on a few months ago, and the plan was to maybe bring it into town and try some songs out. If reading a sign at work’s nearly impossible, though, hitting the right fingerings doesn’t seem much easier.

When you make it to the apartment and slump onto the bed, another problem comes to mind. Since humans moving to the Underground on their own doing is fairly new, there hasn’t been enough time for human medicine to be easy to find. A monster’s body is mostly made of magic, so they don’t need the same types of remedies that a human would. There could be somewhere in the city that’s stocked up on them, but even if you looked up the location, you aren’t exactly in the right well-being to get it.

The apartments next to yours haven’t reached out to you much, so you don’t know them well enough to ask for a favor like that. They aren’t Woshuas, but asking someone you barely know to trek through New Home to find human medicine doesn’t sound like the most convincing job for someone to take. That, though, is what helps you come up with another idea.

Sans. He has to have been to New Home before, so if you call him and let him know what’s up, there’s a good chance he could swing by and drop off what you need. If your trust has gotten as far as it has, he’d most likely do that for you, and with the way Sans thinks, that could be how he pays you back for the work you gave at the hot dog station. You hadn’t asked him what his plans for the week were the last time you were together, though, so whether or not he lined up another hot dog day is unknown.

There’s some more moments of doubt, but they don’t last all that long. If Sans was willing to entrust you with details from his bad dreams that he hadn’t even shared with his brother, letting him know you’re not feeling well is the least you can do. Without a reason to wait, you pull your phone out of your pocket and dial his number. A few rings later, and you’re greeted with his voice.

“heya, protag. ya caught me at a good time, the next batch ‘o noods is warming up in the kitchen.”

“Hello-” A wretched cough comes out. “…Sans.”

“woah, ya doin’ alright there, bud? doesn’t sound like there’s a million g smile behind that cough.” That didn’t take long.

“…N-no, I haven’t been doing all that great, it’s why I wanted to call. Thought earlier in the week I could shake this thing, but I got hit with an old case of the sniffles at full force.”

“yikers, the dreaded sniffles. never had to put up with that myself, but i doubt it’s the easiest to have a nice dinner when all you can think about is yer nose exploding inside.”

“That’s a *sniff* pretty good description.” Harsh letters are pretty difficult to get out now.

“yeah, that can’t be any good. ya sound worse than that time the furnace at the inn broke down. that thing was making hacking noises for weeks.”

“Hasn’t b-been the easiest week. Wa-wa-was wondering if I could ask you a favor.”

“what is it? some treacherous, spaghetti-less journey that crosses hundreds of miles?”

“Close enough.” You explain to Sans your issue with not having any human medicine, and that he must have a much better idea of the area than yourself.

“If you have any other plans, I can find a way to make it work out, but I trust you to get the right things that I’d need. I’d pay back any G you have to spend in double.”

“don’t strain yourself with that part. the g’s no biggie, i can run it by tomorrow for ya lickety-split.”

“You sure? I really do have enough money to cover it, I’ve saved for if something like this happens.”

“i’m sure. your body’s aching enough, don’t want your wallet stubbing its toe. haven’t been out to new home in a while, anyways, so it’ll be a nice one-day vacation.” You thank him for his help, fortunate you won’t have to spend the weekend watching this keep growing.

“no problem. if ya have flesh you actually have to watch over the health of, buddyos should be there to stop it from falling apart.”

“Flesh doesn’t f, f, fall apart when humans get sick, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“exactly. see ya tomorrow, hope the hoodie hasn’t bitten.” He quickly hangs up before you can answer.

The rest of the day might not be the easiest, but hearing him talk and the news of him coming is greatly relieving. You’ll send him the details tomorrow for what you think you’ll need, but his company’s the best pill you could get. The only remaining holdback is Papyrus being left on his own, but knowing him, he’s likely putting that New Year’s party together already. Reaching over by the side of the bed, you shut off the bedside lamp, hoping to get some shut-eye. For now, you’ll have to cope with something truly horrible on your own: no instant noodle appetite.


	19. Positivity Punch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the last week, you felt awful. Your persistence to sticking to your shifts is admirable, but it probably didn't do your health any favors, as by Thursday, you'd become a congested mess. Once your manager sent you home, you were unsure of what to do in the state you're in, before deciding on contacting Sans. His company and his aid in getting what you need should be the perfect prescription.

**Chapter 19 - Positivity Punch**

The bedside alarm wakes you up from a difficult night of sleep. Managing to drift off while your head was only focus on how stuffed up your insides are wasn’t easy, but after forcing yourself to think of the sansation coming tomorrow, it worked out. There’s still no appetite in your gut, which would be sad from the lack of noodles on any other day. As much of a bummer as it is, the last thing a sick throat needs is spicy chicken.

Glimpsing around the room, you check to see if Sans had somehow already come and dropped off the stuff, but that wasn’t the case. It would’ve stunk if your sleeping had gone long enough for him to have to do that. Giving the clock an actual read this time, you see that it’s ten in the morning, which should be late enough to shoot Sans a text. Grabbing the cell phone, you wish him a good morning and let him know the names of the stuff you think you’ll need. He sends one back a few minutes later.

**“those are some boring names. whatever happened to ‘ice-e’s get-better-soon cream’?”**

“That’s what your medicine’s called?”

**“typically. it’s a long story, and if you’re not feeling good, i doubt you wanna read an essay. i can tell ya when i come by later.”**

“That works, looking forward to it.” Texting proves to be a lot easier than talking through the brick in your throat.

**“gonna have some breakfast with papyrus, and then i’ll get on it. glad to hear ya didn’t combust last night.”**

“Alright, no rush. Don’t wanna get in the way of a cheesy morning.”

**“only the cheesiest, my buddyo.”** With that in mind, it’ll probably be an hour or two before he can get here. Glimpsing across the apartment, you can tell that the desk hasn’t been cleaned up in a while, and you want the room to be presentable for when he shows up. It might not be easy, but you pull yourself out of bed and walk over there to sort out the papers.

It’s not a huge apartment, but it gets the job done. The front door leads to a work desk next to a love seat, both of which face a nice TV. New Home made sure to provide every apartment with high definition TVs when they were first rolled out, so everyone could see Mettaton’s shows in the best quality possible. On the far side of the room, the kitchen area sits in the back right corner, and the bed and lamp are by the back left. It doesn’t feel much different than a typical surface apartment, so it wasn’t all that hard to adjust to when you first moved in.

Sorting out the work papers you’d been neglecting for a bit from the music ideas you’d been jotting down, it doesn’t take long for the desk to look professional again. It can’t look _too_ professional, though, you don’t want Sans to think you do nothing but work. To sell that idea, you keep a couple papers sprawled out, and make sure they’re only the music ones, in case they can bring up something to go off about.

Without any appetite recently, there’s no messes in the kitchen to clean up, so the apartment looks like a job well done. Straining yourself, as Sans would put it, before he comes over wouldn’t be the best idea, so you work your way back to the bed. Your mattress is a lot less springy than his, although that gives Sans’ room a little more charm to it.

As expected, the rest of the hour stays quiet. Putting some music on could be a nice touch, but with the pressure that’s already in your head, following notes wouldn’t be the best thing to tack onto it. Closing your eyes again doesn’t get very far, with the little noises from outside and your body’s internal clock having been kicked in. With nothing else to do, you fill the time mostly twiddling your thumbs like the way you saw Sans do last week, and occasionally reaching over to grab a tissue.

Eventually, Sans sends another text your way, saying that he got all the stuff you needed, and that he’d be on his way. All he needs is your address.

**“don’t wanna end up knocking on some stranger’s door. getting arrested for breaking and entering wasn’t on the agenda for today.”**

“The dust would be on my hands, too. It’d be a bad double whammy.” Your studies on monster life had taught you enough about the differences between things like blood and dust, so some bits of dark humor here and there can’t hurt. The apartment likely wouldn’t like if anyone managed to get in without using the front door, so you ask Sans to zap to outside the building.

**“whatever ya say, protag. they’re all gonna miss out on something they can’t see every day, but that’s on them.”** Reading the text draws out a laugh, followed by a hoarse cough. He really can’t get here soon enough. Sans doesn’t follow up with anything else, so you continue to lay back in the bed and try not to think about the plugged feeling of your nose. Skeletons doesn’t even have noses, so it’s a bit of a blessing he never has to deal with something like this. After another minute goes by, a creaking can be heard by the door. A pink slipper slips in, followed by the rest of Sans’ boney body.

“hey, protag. hate to see ya have to **stomach** this, it really stabs me in the **hip**.”

“Everything and anything’s a p-pun opportunity. Guess I’m not disappointed.”

“can’t say you’re wrong. don’t mean to not be serious about it, though. from how ya sounded, i knew it couldn’t be the most fun of times.” He’s got one open hand, with the other holding the bag of what he got. The logo on the bag looks oddly, familiar.

“Can’t tha-ah-ank you enough for doing this for me. Where’d you f, find all the stuff I needed?”

“the surface.” He says it like it’s no big deal.

“T-the surfa-a-” A sneeze cuts off the rest of the word.

“don’t force it, no combustion today. yeah, i couldn’t think of anywhere around that’d have the boring human medicines, so i zapped my way up to the closest town. almost bought a sammich up there, but i’m not gonna drop if i don’t get one.”

“you went all the way up there f, f, for me?”

“yuppers. it’s no biggie. all the bustling reminded me of why the no-sun life’s the right one for me, anyway.” Sans shuts the door behind him and looks around the apartment.

“nice place ya got here. despite feeling sick, ya keep your bed nicer than i do.” His slippers make a pounding noise on the floor as he walks towards the bed, but before getting close, he notices your calendar.

“yikes, you never flipped it. guess it’s october 57th now, or somethin’ like that. want me to get it?”

“Sure thing- *cough*.” He strolls over to the wall to the wall to flip it, but you abruptly remember something.

**Crud.** When you were getting ready for Halloween and marked it on the calendar, you’d drawn a little heart around the part that said “sans and paps’ house”. In particular, it was next to his name, so he’s gonna see it any second now. No way out of this one. Sans grabs at the bottom of the page, and right by his thumb, he spots the heart.

“…huh. didn’t know ya like doodling souls on your calendar. that’s gonna cover up where you can write about stuff goin’ on, ya goofball.” He lets out a low chuckle, but you can see him blushing up a bit and tugging at his shirt collar with the other hand. Once he shakes his head and snaps out of it, he flips the calendar up, revealing November just before November’s about to end.

“keep up with the doodles, they make the page a **skele-ton** more interesting.”

“I’ll t-try to.” Looking at the page, Sans decides it needs some of his own work first. He walks over to the desk, grabs a pencil, and scribbles something on today’s date.

“W-w-what’d you put on it?”

“now, why would i ruin the surprise? that’s rule number one we agreed on a while ago, don’t make me grab the contract you totally signed.”

“Don’t split your f, f, femur over it, I believe you.” You don’t press it any farther, figuring you’ll see whatever it is later.

“welp, there’s no point standing around and watching ya get near exploding without tryin’ to defuse ya first. lemme get some of this ready for you.” Sans reaches into the plastic bag to pull out a bottle, while you let out a violent hack.

“gee, broski, it really is that bad. i’m sure ya got a nice chest under that shirt, don’t want it cracking open like a chestnut.”

“I’d pref, f, fer not to.” After enough fiddling, Sans pulls a bottle out of the bag. Something about it seems… off, though. It’s plain white, and the label looks handwritten. You can’t recall anything on your list looking like that.

“Are you s-sure that’s the real deal?”

“aw, come on, don’t tell me now that you’re not gonna trust me. this is from a totally good source, i swear it down to the last bone.”

“…Well, if it’s to the _last_ bone, then I c-can’t say no.” He opens up the bottle and tosses a dose into your hand.

“it’s a vitamin, so you can chew away at it like you’re seven years old. figured there’s nothin’ better for sickness than some good ol’ nostalgia.” The shape of it isn’t like any medicine you’ve had before, but Sans’ smile makes it impossible to say no. Opening wide, you give it a little toss into your mouth and bite down… only to spit it back out right after. It was too firm for you to take a single bite.

“…W-what was that?!”

“one-a those old chewable ones. it had cavemen on the bottle when i got it, so if it worked for them way back then, thought it’d work for you, too.” He can’t hold back a little giggle, and even if you’re a bit frustrated, it’s still the most adorable thing.

“I hope this isn’t some plot to k-k-kill me.”

“nah, murder’s against monster law. imagine how messed up my bro would be if i was a human killer. here, i’ll get the real bacon out for ya.” The way he says it makes you wonder if Sans is about to pull an actual strip of bacon out of the bag, but the smell would’ve been a giveaway earlier. You can tell from a distance that it’s one of the ones you really did asked for: a strong decongestant.

“do i have permission to go screw around with your cup collection?” Not wanting to sneeze all over him, you nod your head, not all that worried about your collection changing. Sans strolls over to the kitchen side of the apartment, and you point to the cabinet you keep the cups in. Your sickness has been messing with your judgment a bit, so as he opens the cabinet and starts reaching around for the best cup, you find yourself sort of longingly looking at his limbs.

“what color do ya want? you’re the first sick human i’ve met, i dunno if the wrong color would make ya explode or not.”

“…Huh? Oh, uh, s-sorry.” It took a good few seconds to snap out of the drift your mind had gone into.

“The blue one. It’s pretty much the same sh-shade as your hoodie.”

“if that’s the case, ya sure you don’t want me to ring this rag of mine out? there’s probably some sweat hidden away in it.”

“Thought you said skeletons don’t sweat.”

“thought that too, but-” He suddenly cuts himself off, seeming hesitant about finishing his joke. Breathing in, he gets the rest out in one breath.

“if there’s a key to turning on skelesweat, you mighta hit the ignition.”

Neither of you really know what to say next. It sounded like a flirt, but for Sans, that’d be far from his norm. Both of you awkwardly stare around the room for a bit before he silently turns back towards the cups and grabs the blue one. Instead of taking it to the sink, though, he brings the cup to his bag.

“I don’t mean to be picky, b-but I don’t think I can get it down without a d-drink.”

“oh, there’s gonna be a drink. i wouldn’t give ya something a human can’t swallow. what kinda whackadoodle would do that?” He pretends to completely forget what happened two minutes ago. Getting a laugh out’s pretty hard right now, but you appreciate Sans staying true to himself. Reaching into the bag again, he pulls out this mysterious wooden bottle, opens the lid, and pours the contents into the cup.

“it’s something people in town drink when they’ve got the sads. lotsa hope in it. if a picture’s worth a thousand words, 996 of them say sads right now, with how down ya look.”

“What do the other f, f, four say?”

“‘i’m a silly stinkbutt.’”

“Figured.” It’s the first time in a while you manage the letter ‘f’ in one try, so maybe the sight of the drink’s already working.

“What’s it made of?”

“already told ya, it’s made of hope. got some raspberry mixed in there, too, to give it more flavor.”

“Really? What’s it c-called?”

“positivity punch. ‘packs a smile in your mind and mouth.’”

“And it def-f-finitely works?”

“as long as ya believe in it. positivity punch doesn’t take ignorance very well.”

“Aside from that vitamin, you haven’t l-ah-ah-” You almost sneeze, but manage to reel it in.

“…Led me off the road yet. I’ll try that positivity p-punch with it.”

“don’t kid yourself, that was funny. in a hundred years, you’ll be sittin’ around one day and thinking, ‘geez, really got my fibia pulled with that one.’”

“If I make it that long, I’ll p-promise to remember, then.” Sans sets the drink down, puts a hand over where a human’s heart would be, and reads off the name and stats of the pill bottle, giving a mock swear that it’s all accurate. Everything’s a little adventure. Once he’s finished, he pops the bottle open and slips a couple pills into his hand, then hands them and the cup to you.

“ya better be good about taking these, don’t think ya want me to have to play the plane game.” You’re about to agree, but then something falls into your head.

“A-actually… if you’re certain you can’t c- *cough* -catch any of this… c-could you do that? It’d be a skele-ton of fun if you did the effort, so I don’t have to reach.” Sans’ pupils quickly shrink a bit.

“…if this was any other day, bucko, i’d say you’re bein’ a pun thief, but you’re sick, so i’ll let it slide. if the plane game’s what ya want, then it’s what you’ll get. my hand probably looks more like a plane than that pesky skin, anyway.” The weary feeling in your head hadn’t even let you realize from the calendar and him grabbing the cup that his hands are bare yet again. You’re not sure if he’s usually like that or if it’s for you, but either way, the sight of his fingers is very much appreciated.

“If-f-f it’s easier to hop on the bed and do it, you’ve got my f-full permission.”

“was gonna say, unless you want the drink spillin’ all over the personal zone, i might hafta get up there. you’re not talkin’ to the spaghetti dealer here.” Papyrus’ lanky arms would’ve been enough to reach your mouth from standing up, but you’re perfectly fine with Sans needing the mattress.

“whoops, almost forgot to take these off. there’s still snow on ‘em, don’t want ya gettin’ frostbite, too.” You can’t see it from your spot on the mattress, but the sliding noise Sans makes when shuffling backwards indicates that he’s taking his slippers off. If him preparing to hop onto the bed is a Nice Cream sundae, the sight of his feet should be the skeletal cherry to top it off. You’d help him up, but sneezing on someone’s face doesn’t seem like the nicest way to thank them for helping you drink, so Sans pulls himself off the floorboards. His feet are everything you were hoping for; each toe bone stems from a square assortment of smaller bones together, and trails off into a delicate little tip. He scooches his way next to your chest and crosses his legs together, making his small frame even more condensed.

“uh oh. yer gettin’ warmer by the second. if your blood’s not a skelefan right now, i can ske-daddle out, if ya need me to.” It’s all in the sake of humor, but you’re too rattled to let it sink in that way.

“N-no, please don’t leave…”

“oh. sorry, bud, didn’t mean to bonetrousle ya. not about to jump ship, ya might sink without a co-captain.” Seemingly not aware he’s why your face got all warm, he scooches a little closer to make sure he can reach, and you do your best to hold any more warmth back. When he’s gotten close enough, you weakly hand the cup to Sans, who takes it with both arms.

“don’t wanna spill this thing. it’s a sick day, don’t wanna make it look like it was a crime scene, too.”

“Y-yeah, it’d be hard to explain why the b-blood’s all over your hands.”

“well, that makes me wanna talk about the ketchup crisis i had on the surface, but that tale-bone’s for another day. gobble up those pills, the positivity punch is gettin’ restless.” It sounds like the punch is bubbling up a bit, so Sans probably isn’t joking about that. Opening your mouth up and trying not to cough, you toss the pills down your mouth. All the others you need aren’t ones you can mix, so they’re gonna have to wait, but a decongestant’s most important to have now. The pills themselves don’t taste great, but if you managed to swallow a handful of those Temmie Flakes a few months ago, you’ll survive this. In a weird, sudden attempt to impress the skeleton, you try swallowing them dry, but with the mess in your throat, they don’t get very far.

“congrats, you’re an mvp swallower. you should go pro.”

“You might wanna review that p-play, they didn’t even make it to my stomach.”

“uh oh, if i had a throat, i’d be choked up hearing that. here, a hearty cup o’ punch should punch those pills down.”

“I don’t… *sniff*… care if that drink’s a punch, smack, b-bump, elbow drop, or any other move. if it gets these down, I’ll take it.” Sans cautiously pulls his left hand off of the cup and uses his right one to lead it closer to your mouth.

“that scruff of yours is gonna be a thick forest to work through. hope i don’t get lost in all the trees.” With how distracted your work had gotten last week, you hadn’t thought shaving would be a great idea, so some untrimmed facial hair had sprung up.

“D-did my best to mark all the t-trails.”

“thanks for that, it’d really chill me down to the bone if i couldn’t get out. remember, ya gotta believe in the punch for it to do the stuff. this punch has waited its whole life for a big moment like this, imagine what a jab in the arm it’d be if it failed.”

“H-how long’s the punch’s life been?”

“three hours, give or take. hope i don’t forget its birthday.”

“Don’t s-s-slug yourself over it, doubt it’s gonna last that long.” He gets more of a reaction from that one than you were expecting.

“all that sneezing, and your jokes haven’t gotten stuffed up… geez.” Sans’ pupils point down towards the empty hand of his, before he brings his pupils back towards you.

“ready?” Feeling another cough coming up, you cover your mouth quick while giving a thumbs up, before pulling your elbow back. if your mouth’s covered, the juice isn’t gonna get all that far.

“yikers, after a cough like that, i wasn’t gonna take no for an answer. that was so hoarse, you woulda spooked the bajeebers outta a horse. don’t forget to keep believing in this stuff, it’s gonna do its best.” Sans presses the cup up to your lips, and you open them up. The thought of straining your arms around to get the drink down makes you appreciate his idea even more, and this is some of the closest contact he’s made with you, so there’s gotta be some bone-us points in his Professional Pill Swallowing League score for that.

"here comes the tsunderplane." You've got no idea what that means, but he starts pouring a sip into your mouth before you can ask. The punch tastes a lot like one would on the surface, but with a bit of a fizz to it, too. As Sans pulls the cup back up and your mouth fills with the fruity taste, you repeatedly tell yourself before swallowing that you believe in this punch. If Sans says you can trust it, there’s no reason not to. You believe in the punch, you believe in the punch, and you believe in the punch.

And with that, the punch believes in you.

The punch grabs the pills that were lodged in your throat so easily as it goes down that it feels like something getting sucked up by a waterfall. Somehow, it feels like you can taste it from your throat, too, with how strong it is. When the first splash of it makes its way to your stomach, you just realize now how hungry you’d been, but the promise of more ahead is greatly soothing. It’s now that you realize how deserved the ‘positivity’ part of the name is; you’ve got a little smile on your face that you hadn’t gotten since… Sans had agreed to help you yesterday. One way or another, it always ties back to the skeleton sitting by your side.

“looks like ya trusted it. don’t strain that throat of yours answering, i’m sure there’s some great vocal cords in there ya don’t break any strings for. if only we could get more humans to believe, then we could charge thousands. capitalism strikes again.”

“Y-yeah, don’t think they’ll all have a skeleton on their beds to help them believe in it, either.”

“nope, and those plastic ones aren’t gonna do ‘em any good. no personality, and they give my bro the heebie-jeebies.” Sans sets the cup back up to your lips.

“ready to get your throat stuffed with mysterious punch again?” You eagerly nod, and he pours more of the drink into your mouth. It’s gonna take some time for the pills to kick in, but the punch has already eased up your throat a bit, so this sip goes down easier. The two fruits you’re picking up the most from it are apple and raspberry, which are two of your favorites, but there’s probably some exciting Underground fruits mixed in there, too. Taking a big gulp, you swallow the rest of the mouthful before suddenly letting out a big belch. Some of it’s from your systems not doing all that great, while the rest is your body thanking you for finally putting something in your body for the first time in a good 24 hours or so.

“if there’s a burping league, you should join that, too. ya better defend both the belts, though, or i’m gonna have to come after ‘em.”

“Sans vs P-Protag, swallowing and burping on Pay-Per-View. I like it.” There almost wasn’t any stutters that time, so the punch must be working fast. Eager for more, you open your mouth up again.

“looks like ya wanna prove you’re not a one-hit wonder. good plan, if ya wanna be in the big leagues, ya gotta talk the talk and burp the burp.” Sans gently pours some more of the drink into your mouth again, and you gratefully take it all in. The deeper you get into the cup, the more fruits that are mixed in, so if Sans made this drink himself, you can tell he tried to make it better as it goes on. Once you’ve finished your sip, you open your mouth to take a breath in, but instead of giving you another grace period, the skeleton gets right back to pouring more. The sudden punch in your mouth isn’t what you were expecting, but with how good it continues to be, you’re not complaining. With another push, you manage to swallow the mouthful… and when Sans lowers the cup again, you notice something on his face you hadn’t seen before.

A shining blue blush has crept up on each of Sans’ cheekbones. You hadn’t even made any contact, and yet the sight of you drinking from the cup seems to have been enough to get him all warm. It doesn’t take long for Sans to notice your eye contact, and his pupils shrink again before he casts his look off to the side.

“…somethin’ wrong? did i miss the ball on monsters not catchin’ human colds, or…” He’s too shaken up to think of how to finish that, and looks back towards you. The blush isn’t going away.

“Sans, it’s ok-k to feel like that. No need to explain.” You share the biggest smile you can manage to show him that you’re not bothered. It’s enough to make his grin perk up a bit more, and seems like the blush on his skull is only getting deeper. If there’s some sort of premonition holding Sans back from feeling close, you want to do whatever you can to help him realize it doesn’t have to be that way. It seems to be working, because when you open up again for the next sip, Sans rests his other hand on your shoulder.

“gotta do that for… erm… support. can’t let myself fall over, it’d be a real positivity punch in the invisible g-gut if this spilled.”

“I’ll try not to use your hoodie as a t-tissue.”

“eh, the dry cleaner bill’s only 50,000g. you could probably cover it.” He lowers the cup down before you can retort. You can feel Sans giving your shoulder a bit of a loving squeeze as he helps get the drink down, helping relieve the tension that’d built up in your arms. Without any more chatter between sips, he keeps pouring the rest of the drink into your system, loosening up more of the tightness that’d built in your throat. His blush isn’t going away, and your eye contact sticking with it likely isn’t doing anything to make that stop. It provides some strong eye candy to go with the punch, and definitely helps with the positivity side of it. After enough sips, there’s only about enough left for one more mouthful, but Sans pulls the cup away before he can let it out.

“hang on, the grand finale needs somethin’.”

“I’m game for any surp-prise you’ve got in there.” It’s a bit of a struggle, with how relaxed you’ve gotten, but you pull your right hand up and do a bit of a tap on Sans’ forehead. It draws out a low giggle from him, and seems to flush him up even more.

“here goes.” Putting the cup to his face, Sans hovers his mouth over it… and a shot of blue spit comes flying out between his teeth. It lands right in the middle of the punch.

“goal. my brother’s gonna be so proud of me.” He lowers the cup a bit to show you what his spit’s done to it. The drink had originally been a pinkish color, but his blue drop of spit was enough to make it purple.

“…H-how…”

“there’s a tongue back there. how else am i gonna taste all those burgs i’ve had? it’s flavored, too, part of what makes me so stunning.” He pretends to do a dramatic pose with his arms, making sure to keep the cup upright while doing so.

“And it’s… it’s safe to drink? When a human d-does something like that, it’s usually a sign of disrespect.”

“whoops. didn’t mean to **fracture** your moral code, but i’d be **straining** it if i said i knew better. besides, if i’ve got no meat on me, you can’t say i’m bein’ rotten.” Your expression isn’t looking entirely convinced, so he reaches the cup out to your hand.

“here. you gave a mighty fine cheek rub, so i’d say there’s a nine outta ten chance you can pour this without spilling it all over yer face. i promise ya that only good stuff’s gonna come from my mouth, but i don’t wanna force it down if it’s not yer cup o’ tea.”

You look down at the cup. His drop of spit seems to be pretty gooey, as the drink’s not moving as fast when you shake the cup around. Your brain can’t help but tell you it’d be completely gross to drink this now, but your heart’s saying something else. If Sans genuinely didn’t see spitting into your drink as any sign of disrespect, perhaps it’s something skeletons do a lot for others. He’s also right about never having steered you wrong, so it seems unlikely that a sick day would be when he’d abruptly throw that down the gutter. To top it off, Sans and Papyrus had already shown marvelous personality traits you’d never seen in another human before, so skeleton culture seems like the way to go. After putting that all together, you affirm to yourself that the drink’ll be worth it.

Raising it up to your mouth and giving Sans a thumbs-up with the other hand, you start taking the final sip. There’s still a bit of hesitation as you’re lifting the cup up, but as soon as the taste hits your mouth, that instantly goes away. Not a single bit of the drink takes disgusting; on the contrary, the blue raspberry made it even better. It’s got a bit more of a smoothie texture to it, and the new warmth is just what your throat needed. Since it was the last sip, it’s over as soon as it begins, but it was smart of Sans to save it for the grand finale, as he put it. With the cup run dry, you set it by your waist.

“That…”

“yikes. hope i didn’t overstep your skin’s boundaries.”

“…was excellent. I’ll never underestimate your mouth’s fluids ever again.” Your nose is still built up, but it hits you that the punch has just about completely cleared up your throat. Hearing that lights Sans up by a mile.

“great news. glad i could expose you to a part of skeleculture you may or may not have wanted to learn.”

“It was definitely a worthy surprise.” It still hasn’t been long enough for you to have the rest of the medicine, so you leave it in the bag by your feet. Instead, you muster up enough energy to sit up, grab the pillow by your side, and fluff it up a bit before setting it back down.

“Wanna lay down? You’ve put enough toil on your spine already today.” Just like earlier, he seems a bit taken aback.

“…you’re ok with me invading your bed zone that much?”

“By all means, feel free to trespass. I won’t press charges.” With your invitation in place, Sans shakily turns himself backwards. It’d be the perfect chance for you to see if you can toss the cup over his head, but you don’t wanna give any bad… or, should you say **bed**… first impressions. Once he’s turned around, Sans lets go of any work his joints were doing to hold him up, and he falls spine-first onto the pillow with a thud. For a moment, the two of you are sort of just staring at the blank ceiling, before turning towards each other.

“If the hoodie’s getting too warm, you can take it off, if you want. No dress code here.”

“usually, i’d say it’d take more than this to make a bone melt away, but…” He’s about to look away again, before seemingly getting a jolt of confidence and looking back at you.

“you’ve already made me melt enough today.” Slipping his arms out of the hoodie, Sans pulls it off and tosses it in your direction, leaving just his white shirt covering his rib cage.

“there, use it as a blanket. maybe the smell of ketchup stains is what that nose of yours needs.” As per usual, he goes on like his ‘flirt’ never came out of his mouth.

“You think so?”

“all guesswork, i’m not one to give hairy promises.” He sticks an index finger deep into his nose hole to demonstrate.

“That smells it out well enough for me.” Laying the hoodie over yourself, it only reaches from your neck to just above your waistline, but he’s completely right about the ketchup doing the trick. It might only be mental, but your nose feels better already with his scents filling it.

“You can have it back when you have to head out, I shouldn’t be a hoodie thief twice.”

“yeah, you ran the free trial dry anyway, bucko.” To show you how incredibly serious he is about this, Sans grabs one of the sleeves of the hoodie and tosses it towards your face.

“Sorry if my mattress doesn’t meet the same grade as yours. It doesn’t have that springy authenticity to it.”

“eh, it’s no biggie. always knew you were a softie anyway.” You start laughing, but it’s cut off by the sudden sound of drums from outside. That must be the music festival you’re missing, and the change of expression on your face lets Sans know that.

“you’re wishin’ you were out there?” You do a little nod.

“can’t blame ya. if you’re outta tune with monster music, that woulda been a nice chance to tune up.”

“Yeah, really pulls at my heart-strings that I couldn’t join in.”

“it’d be hard for me to **blow **a feeling like that off, too.” It might not be quite the same as being out on the streets right now, but trading music puns is its own type of special.

“don’t **fret** over it too much, there’ll be other ones **sliding** in soon enough. creativity runs wild down here, even if it means making sounds that human ears could blow up from. ever heard of a sousasousasousasousasousaphone?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“good, cause i was just bein’ **phony** ‘bout that one.”

“Had a feeling.”

“maybe next time, i’ll trombone my way to everyone’s hearts, and/or human intestines there. feelin’ pretty good ‘bout that tune i played for ya.” As Sans says that, he glances over towards your closet and sees the guitar perched by it.

“didn’t know ya play guitar, looks like yer hidin’ a fresh pile of music genius from me.”

“If you consider a bunch of missed chords ‘music genius’, then yeah. It’s still been a learning process.”

“i’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. if those fingers of yours can put up with my dry hands, i’m sure they can deal with a guitar neck.” What Sans doesn’t let on, though, is an idea he gets from the sight of the guitar. Now’s not the right time to execute it, since you’re not feeling great, but he sets it in the back of his mind. Someday… someday.

“heck, we should **do** a **do**-er together there. who ever said a trombone and a guitar can’t **slide** together?”

“Oh, I’d love that. If I can get the kinks outta the system, some strums with your smooth playing would go great together.”

“we can choose the song later. right now, you’d probably choose somethin’ with ‘sickness’ in the title, and we don’t wanna scare the kids away. we’re a family-friendly duet.” You and Sans proceed to quietly look into each other for a few moments, as the drum beats and occasional horn can be heard from the window. Taking a good look under his eyes, you can tell they’re a lot healthier than back when he was having his nightmares. It’s been too long since you last asked about it, so you decide to change that.

“So, um… has the flower still been helping?” You hope it’s a positive answer for both the sake of his head and yours; while your throat might be feeling better, there’s still a lot of pressure built up in your head.

“yup. papyrus wanted to take care of watering duty, so i’ve let him have it. keeps it bright ‘n yellow every day, and i think rocko’s still happy ‘bout havin’ a pal.” He clears his throat.

“had to break the whole story to him. he wanted to know why the flower got here, and i wasn’t gonna tell him a lie.” You hadn’t asked about that side of things before, since you weren’t sure if it’d be invading his privacy, but if he shared that on his own, it can’t be a problem.

“How’d he take it?”

“about how i thought it would. he didn’t wanna know what the nightmares were about, said he didn’t wanna be thinking of me having those. listening to that was easy, don’t think the nightmares involving him woulda made that any better.”

“So he’s completely supportive?”

“yup. said he didn’t have any hard feelings for me waiting that long to tell him, and that if anything happens again, he’s only a hallway away. made his best spaghetti ever that night, woulda saved some from you, but i was too much of a noodle to think-a that.”

“You weren’t being a noodle at all, you deserved as much of it as you wanted. Besides, if you’ve been having his spaghetti for years, it’s your privilege to get the best plate.”

“heh, thanks. there’s probably some human spaghetti places that’ve moved to town by now, but none of them have a chef as cool as my brother.”

“Without a doubt. Cool as the icicles that hang off your house.”

“oh, i finally got off my butt and took care of those.”

“You have a butt?”

“…debatably. that’s for down the road, though. anyhoo, i didn’t want my house to be the scene of a stabbing when you come by next, and they were gettin’ pretty darn loose.”

“Aww, you did physical work around the house just for me?”

“yup. zapped up to the roof, so i didn’t do any actual climbing, and it was pretty easy out there. just had to keep rocko on a leash so they didn’t think-a gettin’ out.”

“You’re a very caring pet owner.”

“i try my best.” As much as you like hearing about Rocko, you stop the conversation from getting any more off track.

“So, with that flower around, you aren’t having any dreams, or bad moments during the day?”

“nope. was real smart of ya to pick that one, days have been as smooth as slime spaghetti. don’t think i should go into that while you’re feelin’ sicko, though.”

“Yeah, it’s for the best not to.”

“sour flower hours would start up before i had that one around, but seeing papyrus proudly water it gives me something way better to think of. my noggin and my brother’s watering schedule both really owe it to ya.”

“Oh, I’m not asking for anything in return. It’s what friends do for each other.”

“you mean you don’t want an armpit fart as payment?”

“Didn’t know skeletons can armpit fart.”

“got a deal for free ones today, if ya wanna find out.”

“No, thanks. With my luck, I’ll sneeze all over your face after that.”

“who knows, maybe you’ve got a blue raspberry scent, too.”

“Don’t think I do, but never say never.” Your back-and-forth has lit up his grin like a lightbulb, and it’s one of your favorite things to see.

“If you’re sure I can’t be contagious, then a friends’ hug could be a good anecdote. A skeleton and a set of flesh, hugging together on a bed.”

“sounds like the perfect recipe.” Normally, you’d ask yourself more at the start if two friends hugging in a laid-down position is the right stage to move to, but with your head still clogged up, you’re blissfully unaware of that. Sans doesn’t see a reason to object, so he pulls himself closer for the hug. With how light he his, you sort of pull him in when you do so, and he wraps his arm around your hoodie-covered side.

“good thing there’s not a blizzard blowin’ by.”

“Why’s that?” Unexpectly, Sans starts talking in an accent like he’s from a Western movie.

“’cause this here blanket ain’t big enough for the teewwooo of us.” With the lowness of his voice, it doesn’t really work out, but that just adds to the joke. Since Sans isn’t wearing the hoodie, you’ve got a much better feel of what his shoulders are like now; they aren’t huge, without any muscle surrounding them, and your finger’s rested up on the little joint that brings his forearm and shoulder together. All the intrinsic little details are funny to see, considering it’s the body of someone that treats life really simply.

You’re getting a different feeling from the hug than you thought you’d have, though. Rather than relaxing, your mind’s racing with something new. Your closest friend’s snuggled up in a hug, and your nose doesn’t feel like it’s churning up a sneeze any time soon. He’s in the perfect position to plant a smooch right on that cheekbone of his. Sans has the most wonderful personality, and the cutest smile to top it off. He’d completely deserve it.

However, as you’re about to pull your head back to eye down the cheekbone, something hits you like a pile of bricks. You’d forgotten earlier that the decongestant makes users sleepy soon after using it. Being on a soft mattress while right next to a friend isn’t gonna make that any slower, either. You’re trying to make out the detail on Sans’ face for where the best smooch spot would be, but it’s all starting to blur together. Being the skeletal expert he is, Sans can notice your spine making some strange wobbly movements, so he pulls his own head back to see what’s up.

“y’all right, protag? yer head’s so droopy, i might hafta call an ambulance. we got a case of the loopy doofies here.”

“Huh? Oooh, I’m fine just… *yawn*… scouting.”

“scouting? don’t tell me ya already got a job in the licking league, you’d be breaking every rule right about now.”

“Oh, it’s not that. I’m scouting… scouting… something much better…” Your time’s running out. Every ounce of Sans’ skull deserves a smooch right now, but it’s all starting to fade away. Either Sans got the most intense type of the medicine, or you hadn’t done your research right. You’d make a joke about libraries, but you don’t think you could string a proper sentence together. The blurs that make up what you can see of Sans’ skull are starting to grey out, and he’s trying to ask you something, but you can’t make it out.

What timing. Your stuffed up mind could’ve really used this, but if you want to get healthier, this must be the price to pay. Still, he’s so close, and yet, he’ll be so far away. Maybe if you turn your neck a little closer, you can snap out of it for long enough…

…It doesn’t work. The greys start turning into blacks, and you can feel your head crashing down towards the surface of the mattress.

Nooooooooo…

* * *

You wake up, and find yourself alone. Your vision’s too blurred up to look at the clock and see what time it is, but the music outside’s gotten more rambunctious, so it must be later in the evening. Rubbing your eyes, you get a better look at the window, and the colorful lights coming out of it prove you right about the festival. Whoever’s out there right now is having a wild time. You’re feeling a little better, but not well enough to drag yourself outside.

For a moment, you wonder if everything with Sans was a dream, but the bag by your feet and the open pill box show that it wasn’t. Along with that, there’s a sticky note sitting where he’d been giving you a hug before you passed out. Holding it up to your face, you’re able to squint through the grogginess to see what it says.

**“ya passed out, ya goof. had to skedaddle outta the way, or your chin woulda bonked right off my skull. sorry ‘bout taking the hoodie, didn’t mean to steal back your blanket, but the couch wanted that one back. lemme know how sneezetacular things go.”**

It hadn’t come to you yet that the hoodie really was gone. If the couch really did want that one back, it’s for the best, so it doesn’t take its anger out on Sans and Papyrus’ house. You hope your sudden sleep didn’t tick Sans off, but if he fished that pill out of the bottle, maybe he knew what was coming and wanted to give you a sleepy surprise.

Lifting your back off the pillow, you look through the bag and pull out another box you’d needed, which clearly states that it’s non-drowsy. A double-header nap wouldn’t be for the best. As you ease your way off the bed and go to the sink to fill a cup with some water that’ll probably taste incredibly plain now, a little paper flap can be heard behind you. The note fell off the bed and is now laying on its other side on the floor. Once the cup’s filled with water, you turn around to pick it up, and find four words scribbled on it:

**“sweeter than my punch.”**

Gosh. He can go from his way of jokes to his adorable way of... what you think might be a flirt... in a matter of seconds. All that time he spent with you, and he still mustered the energy together to get you in both of those ways.

That does it. As you gulf down the next pill and down it with water this time, you find the notepad and pen that Sans had been using, and jot down a reminder for yourself. No matter what he’ll say, he’s done too much for you to not do something in return, and you’ve got the perfect place in mind.

It’s your turn to take the skeleton on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter coming as late as it did! My semester's gotten pretty wild, so it was harder to find time to put this one together. I'll do my best to keep working on it as much as I can, since there's plenty of ideas left that put a smile on a face that I want to be able to share with everyone.


	20. Reservations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By being himself as always, Sans had managed to turn a sick day from work into a wonderful one. Through his jokes, adorableness, and the one-two punch of medicine and punch he'd brought you, the skeleton cooled your temperature and warmed your heart. Your attempt to give him a smooch might've not worked out, but when you wake up, you put an even bigger idea together.

**Chapter 20 - Reservations**

Another dinner with Sans. It’s the perfect idea. Somehow, it’d already been well over a month since the last one, and back then, it was still much more of the friend zone. While neither of you had set a word about it, though, it couldn’t be ignored that something much bigger was brewing. He spent his day being by the side of the sick dude you are right now, so taking him out somewhere is the least you can do.

There’s no doubt in your mind for where the right spot is, either. On the tallest, newest building in New Home, there’s this restaurant on the top floor that sits on the roof, called Bhodeck. It’s shaped like a big circle, is surrounded by a curving glass wall, and the entire thing slowly rotates, giving patrons a view of the whole skyline. You’d seen it on plenty of walks to and from work and had wanted to give it a shot, and going with Sans would be the best reason to do so. From what you’d heard, the restaurant has the tiniest smidge of a dress code, so he probably wouldn’t be allowed to wear his slippers in, but there’s probably some cute shoes laying around his house.

…Suitable. You definitely meant to think suitable. That medicine must be still messing with your head some.

Why you even try to convince yourself there’s other factors is beyond you at this point.

Making a phone call doesn’t sound like the most appealing idea right about now; that medicine may have made it a lot easier to get words out without stutters, but talking still had some pain to it, and waking up after a few hours of sleep isn’t going to make that any better. The restaurant always seemed like a busy place, though, with the throngs of monsters coming in and out of it each evening, so it’s best to call for a reservation now. Grabbing your phone off from by your bed, you’re half-expecting to see another note from Sans stuck on it, but alas, he showed your technology some mercy. After a few taps, you’ve found the number to the restaurant, and call it. A few dial noises play, and then a voice can be heard from the other side.

**“Greetings, this is Bhodeck Bar & Restaurant.”** You clear your throat and do your best to talk through the discomfort.

“Hello, I would like to place a reservation for-”

**“We cannot take your call right now, but please remain on hold and someone will be on to assist you shortly.”** The voice is followed by some elevator music. It’s as if they knew everyone that called would say that, and paused their message until you’d be finished. Maybe it’s part of Underground restaurant tradition, or something like that.

While the elevator music plays, you realize how much you wish you weren’t being given more time to think about it. Placing a reservation before the guest says yes is a bit of a risk; what if Sans says no? You’d never asked before if he wanted to go somewhere he’d be outside of his usual attire, so it might be asking him to step farther out of his comfort zone than he’s ready to right now. Along with that, what if the city really isn’t his cup of tea? It doesn’t sound like he comes to New Home that often, and he’s always mentioned how Snowdin’s where his bones feel most at b-ome, and New Home’s about as different from there as a town in the Underground can get.

Before you can get too caught up on this, though, you close your eyes and take some breaths. Sans wouldn’t want you worrying over something like this; sometimes, you’ve just gotta throw yourself into something when you don’t have all the answers going in. If he’d questioned every little detail about his own decisions, there’s a good chance you could’ve never shared some experiences together, like zipping through time and space to get to the Dip. Learning the details of how warping works beforehand might’ve scared you away from trying; he’d want you to surprise him the same way. To your mind’s relief, the hold on the call ends, and a voice picks up.

“Good evening! This is Monster Adolescent, how can I help you today?” Monster Adolescent? You’d never be one to judge a name, but… huh. Putting name thoughts aside, you push on with the reservation. Sans never seems to have work or comedy on Wednesdays, so that night sounds best.

“Hello, I’d like to place a reservation for Wednesday night at seven. A table for two, if possible.”

“Hmm, lemme check if anything’s open for ya, my dude.” Instead of hearing fingers clicking, though, you hear this violent slam from the other side of the line. The voice then picks up again, like this is a normal thing.

“Yep, we’ve got a table for two right by the window, if you’d like that one! And what name should I put it under?” You’re tempted to ask if they’re okay, but hold off.

“Protag, and yeah, that works perfectly.” That’s followed by more slamming, now at a more rapid pace. Are… are they using their _head_ to type the reservation into a computer or something?

“Alrighty, you’re all set! See you here on Wednesday!” They hang up. That was one of the most bizarre phone calls you’ve had in a long time, but at least the time and date both worked as hoped. The next step in the puzzle’s calling Sans himself, but you don’t want to call too soon, in case sounding sick makes him think it wouldn’t be the right move. You decide to wait on it for a little while, so Sans’ll know it’ll be the best bonebardment of happy dating times possible.

You’re ready to spend the rest of the night either listening to the music from outside or chilling with some beats of your own, but you remember something from earlier. Sans had written something on today’s date when he flipped the calendar for you after that little… embarrassment, and refused to spoil the surprise, as he put it. If you’re already on your feet, there’s no reason to not check it out, so you stumble your way around the bed, giving your scruff a little scratch in doing so. Your eyes still haven’t completely adjusted to being up again, so you have to squint a little to see what he wrote… and almost fall back onto the bed in response.

**“dorky skeleton comes over to stuff things in my mouth.” **The words might not be any surprise for what Sans would say, but he drew two little souls next to it; a monster one, and a human one.

You’d never thought of him as one to add cute bits to his writing, but unless his handwriting’s gotten some habits you haven’t seen before, he saved that for you. It makes you both more jumpy for the next chance to see him, and more nervous. Figuring he’d say something about how you probably shouldn’t glow all red again, you hop your way onto your bed and listen to the jubilant music from outside. You can’t say it’s the same as being out there, but the radio version will still do. Once it starts dying down for the night and it gets harder to concentrate, you get some more water and pop down another decongestant, fully aware this time that it’ll make you sleep. There might not be any punch this time, but it packs enough of a punch to knock you out for the night.

There’s definitely progress by the next morning, but it’s gonna take more doses and relaxing to fully feel better. You wouldn’t have traded your time helping Sans for the world, so you’ve still got no regrets for plunging into the cold last weekend, but this is the sixth day of not feeling great, so you hope this means it’s on the tailbone end. The music festival’s going on for the whole weekend, so it provides more to listen to, but you have to spend your Saturday lazing around the apartment and inevitably thinking about the phone call. It’s still not quite the right time to make it.

Most of your doubt stems from, as per usual, surface norms. You’d never summoned up the confidence to ask a guy out, out of fear of what peers would do if the news got out. The Underground’s proven to be the absolute last place to judge something like this, with all the different types of couples you’d seen passing by, but things from the past had proved to be hard to fully let go of. It also didn’t help matters that you had no idea where Sans sits on the grand scheme of things. With how he’d accepted things like the face rubs with no restraint, you’d definitely had some more-than-just-friends moments, but what if he just saw it as some fun play…?

No. Enough’s enough with that kind of thinking. Each time you let yourself slip into that mindset, you tell yourself, you’re doing what he wouldn’t want you to do. He wouldn’t want you this frantic, especially not for his sake. You’ll call tomorrow morning if you’re feeling better, and whatever happens, happens. The rest of the day’s spent with more medicine-taking and music-listening, while trying to keep your mind off the call as much as possible. If Sans was here, he’d probably tell you how noggins don’t rest well if thoughts of boneheads are filling them. By the end of the day, you can tell that the pills are doing their job, and feel confident in tomorrow being the right day to make the call.

Fortunately, it proves to be right, as a lot of the roughness in your throat and the bodily weakness has gone away by the next morning. Most of the music energies in town must’ve gotten let out over the last two nights, because all you can hear now is some faint brass instruments playing from afar. Maybe it’s a sign that today’s the right day to call the trombone enthusiast.

Once you’ve had some breakfast to make sure your mind’s not solely on food for a call involving food, you shakily make your way to the phone to type Sans’ number in. It’s the most nervous you’ve ever been to hear his voice. Any and every TV show you’d watched that had a date call in it was between a guy and a girl, so media had never really prepared you for something like this, but your last mental reminder is to be yourself. Sans doesn’t deserve anything different. You dial the numbers in, and with a shaky thumb, hit the call button. The other side keeps ringing, and you wonder if he’s having breakfast with his brother, before the rings suddenly end. There’s no whoopee cushion noise playing, like his voicemail does, so he picked it up. Closing your eyes, you do your best to stay relaxed.

“…*burp* hello, this is dork estates, how can i hit your fancy today?”

“H-hi Sans, it’s me. Did I wake you up from your sleep?”

“hrm? oh, hi, me. don’t get bent outta shape, me didn’t wake me up. the smells of papyrus’ cooking are filling up the house, me didn’t hafta get me up for that.”

“Gosh darn it, you, always ready to hit me full force with those.”

“you know it.” You can hear him sliding up from his pillow, and the thought of him waking up brings back warm memories of that morning you had together in his room.

“so, what’d ya wanna call me for at this breakfast-filled hour? did ya get a prescription for my voice or somethin’?” The thought of bluntly saying ‘yes’ is really temping, but you manage to hold off.

“Good guess, but no. I wanted to ask if… erm…” You breathe in and push through the rest, like Sans would do if he was stumped on saying something.

“Is your Wednesday night free?”

“hmm. lemme check for ya.” From the other side of the line, you can hear this mountain of papers suddenly flailing around, but he’s probably trying to make something like flipping a calendar sound really extra.

”yuppers. wednesday’s as clean as my teeth.” He makes a good point; no matter what he eats, Sans always seems to have a set of pearly whites.

“what’d ya need on wednesday, though? your store having a grand opening for a pasta section or somethin’?”

“Again, a solid guess, and I wish they’d add that, but no, it’s not that, either. I was wondering if… eheheh…” Another roadblock. Sans is “greeted” with the sounds of your nervous breathing.

“protag, i don’t even hafta be in the room to tell somethin’s buggin’ ya. unless you found out someone ransacked the ‘dog station, it’s all fine. dump out all the wednesday worries.” He can read you like a journal, even over the phone, and it’s exactly what you needed to keep going.

“Well, would you wanna… *gulp* …go to dinner that night? There’s this great place in New Home I think you’d really like, and after everything you did for me on Friday, you more than deserve a treat.” You can hear a bit of a sudden gasp from the other side of the line.

“…yer askin’ me on a date?” He sounds a lot more awake than before.

“…Yes. I-if that’s something you’re not comfortable with, I completely understa-”

“i’d love to.” His unexpected to-the-point answer stops you dead in your vocal tracks.

“i-i mean, yeah, some guy grub together sounds great. a chance for us to dive into each other’s… f-food fields. what spot on the clock would it be?”

“Seven. Thought it’d make sure you’ve got enough time to read your bedtime story to your brother.”

“that was thoughtful of ya. couldn’t blame him for bein’ cranky if i couldn’t tell it to ‘im.”

“There’s just one other thing. They have the tiniest little dress code, so I don’t think you can wear the slippers ‘n shorts there. Is that ok?”

“oh, yeah, that’s totally fine. there’s some stuff that’s been spinnin’ ‘round the tornado for years that could use another go. ya might wanna have the fire department on speed dial, if my outfit makes ya boil over.”

“What?”

“what?” He’s got you in the palm of his boney hand now. If he’s tossed you around that easy, there’s no way this date can’t be what he wants.

“…S-so, yeah, thought it’s best I say that part now. Don’t want your bones getting rattled if they aren’t in a slippery mood.”

“thanks for the skulls up. sure it’ll be a skele-ton of fun.”

“You’ve used that one a lot, but you’re not wrong. Hope you like the view.”

“of you? don’t start gettin’ an ego on me, datemeister.” As per habit by now, he hangs up before you can retort. With that taken care of, you set the phone back down, somehow not dropping it while doing so. Not only did he say yes, but he sounded thrilled about it. The way he said ‘i’d love to’ before swinging back to his usual vocabulary was the most adorable thing.

What you could not know right now, though, is how Sans is reacting on the other side of the Underground. While he stayed clear throughout the call, right now, he’s squirmingly telling his brother his reason for having to heat up Wednesday’s spaghetti later than usual. He’s never been asked to something like this, so he’s nervously telling Papyrus all about it while keeping an excited grin… but there’s no way he’d share that with you right now, when you’ve got enough on your mind as is.

With nothing else going on, you sort through your closet to see what you should wear. It might not be for three days, but you still want to pick something out that’ll get him all blushy, which makes you smile and him seemingly all warm. There’s a purple sweater that you hadn’t gotten to wear in a long while, and it doesn’t have any wrinkles in it, so it should do just the trick. A black pair of skinny jeans and some brown boot-like shoes will cap it off nicely. Carefully hanging them up by your dresser and frantically holding in an impulse for a sneeze, they’ll serve as a constant reminder of the fun ahead. Being close with Sans, getting a great view of bones and buildings, the food that monsters have raved about; it should be nothing short of brilliant.

The next two and a half days go by as more of a blur than anything else. You’re feeling much better, so there’s no excuse to not go to work, and the musical festival ended, so there’s no sounds from the streets to stay back for. With New Year’s approaching in a few weeks, the spaces that once held the Halloween merchandise are now loaded with party gear, fireworks, questionable drinks, and other items to ring the year in. It brings back thoughts of the celebration Papyrus is putting together, and you hope he’s been able to find the resources for the plan he’s set up. Neither him nor his brother come by, so it’s a skeleton-less pair of days, aside from the one you’ve got inside you, but that’s not something you’d get into near them.

Feeling rejuvenated by the upcoming date, your work at the store is faster than ever. Whenever someone asks where an item or section is, you’ve got an answer right away. The same Woshua from last week even gets enough girth to approach you again to ask where they can get a nail filer, which you figure is for those claw-feet of his, and you’re able to point him in the right direction without a single itch of sneezing. Your work is so impressive that when it’s time to head out on Wednesday afternoon, your manager calls you over to give her thanks for the time you’ve put in. Her name’s Brenda; a tall, dinosaur-like monster, much like that one from the day you helped Sans make his hot-dogs for the workers.

“That was some mighty fine work of yours, Protag. I’m gonna throw an extra half onto your pay, you’re giving the store some great rep.” You do your best to pay attention to Brenda’s kind offer, but towards the end of your shift, your mind had started wandering towards what Sans is gonna wear when you didn’t have any customers to tend to. The date’s only a few hours away, and while you’d managed to keep your feelings about it inside so far, that hold was starting to crack.

“Hrm? Oh, thanks a bunch, g-glad I could do a skele-ton of work for the store today.”

You just made a skeleton pun in front of your boss, who’s very much not a skeleton. It takes a moment for that to hit, but once it does, it hits like a pile of bricks. Fortunately, Brenda’s probably the least stringent of the managers, but also possibly the most thoughtful.

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it, Protag? Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble, I just think there’s something hanging on that human brain of yours.” Despite her reassurance, you still find it hard to make eye contact.

“Come on, you can look at me. I’m not gonna bite.” You respect your manager too much to not listen, so you look back up… while the dorky blush you’d gotten thinking of Sans in something special went up with you, too.

“Ah, so it’s not some_thing_ you’re thinking about. It’s some_one._” She saw right through you.

“B-Bren- ma’am, how did you-”

“Protag, I’ve been crackin’ at it for 232 years now, and I’ve learned a lot about reading someone through their expression. You haven’t said a single word, and I can tell there’s someone you’re caring for a lot right now.” 232?! She looks great for her age, but that’s beside the point. If anyone else had said something like that, you might find it a little creepy, but if Brenda’s 232, she has to know her stuff.

“…Yeah, you’re right. There is someone that means a lot to me, and I’ve invited them… him… on a date tonight.” You’re doing your best to get over the internal filter for revealing the kind of person you’re going out with, with how much more the Underground listens.

“Well, if he said yes, then it sounds like you’re on the right track already. Go out there and be yourself, and if you’ve got half the positivity you show customers you’ve never even met, you’ll knock his socks off.”

“Haha, hope his socks don’t go flying. What if they land on the next table?”

“See? You’ve already got the flow. Show that dude what you’ve got, Protag.” Deeply appreciating the motivation, the two of you shake hands, no whoopee-cushions involved this time. You head out of the store, and checking your watch, you see that it’s a bit before five. Two hours should be plenty of time to get home, slide the outfit on, and make it to Bhodeck. When you get to the apartment and take the elevator up, you can feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. Sans had sent you some good luck texts before work to make sure you don’t die before the date, and now it seems like he’s checking in again.

**“if you’re reading this, i figure ya survived wacky wednesday. congrats.”**

**“Yup, sure did! Heading back to my place to get dressed.”**

**“you mean you’re not goin’ in that spicy work shirt of yours? what a bummer.”** Knowing Sans, he probably would’ve just made some lighthearted jokes about you wearing a work shirt and then treated it like no big deal at all, but he deserves better than that.

**“Nope, don’t think Bhodeck would like that. Hope the outfit I’ve put together meets your fanciest of fancies.”** When nervous, always joke your way to victory.

**“i’d give ya a sneak peak of what i’ve got, but ya caught me at a bad time. don’t got any shirt on to show off.”**

Sans with an exposed rib cage. It takes everything you have to not ask for a sneak peak of _that_, but you don’t want to ruin the date before it can even begin.

**“No worries, the restaurant’ll have a bone to pick with us if we’re late, anyway. It’s a poppin’ place.”**

**“yeah, let’s not let that happen. lookin’ forward to the time ‘n the grub, ya grub.”** With that, you let Sans off the hook. He’s not all that sure where the building is, and warping into someone’s bathroom doesn’t sound like his idea of fun, so he’s gonna have to travel by foot and the Riverperson’s boat. It’s perfectly fine with you, as it means you can watch his outfit grow closer from a distance.

Once your legs have gotten their stability back after that earlier thought, you decide to waste no time in getting the work clothes off and shaving. When you were feeling as ill as you were last week, using a metal razor didn’t sound like the safest idea, so you’d waited until now to take care of the scruff that’d built up. Fortunately, you don’t get any cuts in the process, and once that’s cleaned up, you put the snazzier outfit on. The purple sweater feels really cozy, and at least to you, the skinny jeans show off a fair amount of curve. For a casual date, it feels like you’ve put together some perfect attire, after some serious poses in front of the mirror, as well as some joking ones. Maybe if you bend your knees in some fancy poses, he’ll get all warmed up…

Nah. You’re both just going there to have a quality time together, no use making big plans over how you’re gonna pose your legs. This isn’t Mettaton TV. Composing yourself, you give your hair one last brushing in front of the mirror before beginning to make your way out. Shaving took a bit, with how cautious you’d been, and it’ll take a bit of a walk to get to the building, with all the human… whoops, monster traffic. The thought of Sans being on his way as well helps push any weariness from work behind you, leaving you with a bit of a strut to your step out of the apartment and down the streets.

With how tall the high rise is, you’re able to see it from the get-go, but getting there’s gonna take a bit, as expected. You’re not sure if it’s from lasting energy from the music festival or some other reason, but there’s monsters and sporadic humans _everywhere_. Whether it be solo acts like yourself, friend groups, or families with the slowest… children… ever, everywhere you look has people on the go. Maybe you should’ve made a bright neon sign for your sweater that says “I’VE GOT AN IMPORTANT SOMEONE TO MEET.” Papyrus would’ve appreciated the boldness.

The crowds make using street signs ultimately worthless, so you’ve got to trust your gut and follow the direction of the building. New Home doesn’t have the same threat of dark alleys that navigating a surface city this way might introduce, but it’s still not the easiest. The thought of getting so lost that you can’t make it by the time you told Sans is a terrifying one, so you keep the best pace you can. It’s a good thing the Underground doesn’t have roads for cars; the trail between the sidewalks might not be as clean, but if this whole flow was stuck on the sidewalks, it’d even more of a living nightmare.

You immediately kick yourself a bit for thinking of that, and make sure to never say ‘living nightmare’ in Sans’ presence. That’d be one way to turn a date sour fast.

By either cautious navigating, being driven by thoughts of the skeleton, dumb luck, or a combination of the three, you make it to the street Bhodeck’s on. The glimmering black glass is a lot easier to make out now, as you can see how it’s a neat combination of monster architecture, and that of the humans that laid out the design for it. There’s a few more families to shift your way around, but you make it work, and arrive by the front doors of the hotel that makes up the majority of the building. Now that checking your watch won’t make you a public safety hazard, you check the time.

Six-fifty. Both perfect and imperfect. You’d made it with plenty of time before the reservation, but it also means more time to risk overthinking a date with someone that wouldn’t want you overthinking it at all. With nothing else to do, you half-heartedly glance at the other buildings across the street and tell yourself, ‘You and him are gonna have fun, you and him are gonna have fun, you and him are gonna have fun.’

A few minutes pass, and you figure he should be here any minute now. Knowing Sans, there’s a good chance he’ll see you standing around and make some joke about you being fashionably early, but it doesn’t do much to slow down your little shakes over what tonight means. It might be the second ‘date’ you two have had, but with all the bonding you’ve grown to have tomorrow, you want to treat him to the best experience he could possibly have. It had hit you earlier today that you’re not even sure where on the spectrum he is for who he’d want to grow all warm with, so what if this isn’t his cup of tea-

“protag. hey, protag, down here. i know i’m short, but i didn’t think ya’d have to **sweat**er it to find me.” Pulling your glance away from you street, you see Sans and his pupils staring right through your skull. Somehow, you’d gotten so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn’t see the skeleton you were thinking of coming close…

…but maybe it’s for the best, after seeing the outfit he’s got on. It immediately melts your heart, and you’re sure if you’d been watching it before and tried to talk, the hotel would have a melted human to clean up. No one could be equipped to handle something as sansational as this.


	21. Mosaic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner time.

**Chapter 21 - Mosaic**

The sight of Sans’ outfit has you frozen solid. His hoodie’s gone, and it’s replace by a green, unbuttoned varsity style jacket, with no pesky team logos or dates on it. Under the jacket is a dark grey v-neck, revealing the very top of the ribcage you’d been wondering about before. There’s a gleaming silver watch over his left wrist. Below the shirt, he’s got a pair of black jeans on that’re similar to yours, with some rigid brown shoes with laces rounding out the picture. Each one’s been tied with the most adorable pair of bunny ears, and since you’d only seen his feet in slippers before, it’s a sight to behold. (The Halloween battle body was too terrifying to count.) You weren’t sure what you were expecting to see Sans wear, but this was absolutely worth the wait.

“uh oh, ya really are a mess. hope you listened to what i said ‘bout having the fire department on speed dial.” Hearing his voice some more is enough to snap you out of the trance his outfit put you in.

“What? Oh, hello, Sans! You sure look, um… ravishing tonight.” Of all the things you could’ve called his outfit, the first one that comes out is ‘ravishing.’

“radishing? ya think i look like a radish? you’re the radish ‘round these parts, with how yer look-” He stops, taking his first good look up close at the outfit you’ve got on. The combination of the sweater, skinny jeans, and boots seem to have lit something up in Sans, because his pupils shrink and he steps back to get a better look at the big picture. His face gets so flooded with a blue hue that he has to look at his feet, and he talks to himself loud enough for you to hear.

“pull it t-together, self, don’t make the wrong first impression.” Swinging his head back up, he looks at you with solid eye contact and puts all his pent up energy into one word.

“cute.”

He’s gotten you again. With just a single quip, Sans has completely worked his way into your head. Your gut wants to say something back to him, but your lungs and the warmth in your face won’t let you. Giggling from a job well done, he glances down at his watch.

“heheh, almost seven. we better get inside, ya goof.” Silently nodding your head a bit, you turn around and walk through the front doors, side by side. Since the restaurant’s in the rotating room up top, and neither of you want to get all that winded before sitting down for your meal, you approach the elevator instead of the stairs. Managing to do something for the first time since Sans’ cannon shot, you hit the up button, and wait for the elevator to arrive.

“in case ya wanted a fancier review, purple’s a real nice color on ya. thought the clothes i lent would make ya a bluethusiast, but it is what it is.”

“H-hey, purple’s got blue in it. You’ve said you used to be a science guy, surely you know how color mixing goes.”

“woah, you’re goin’ really on the nose hole with that one. you’re right, though. how else would i know yer sweater’s got a 75,0,130 rgb code? there’s plenty-o blue in that.”

“…You can read color codes off of people’s clothes?”

“i’ll see if i can remember to bring it up again when we’re gettin’ the grub. can’t let this hydroxyapatite run on an empty stomach.” You’re too stunned by his sudden science point to tell him that he doesn’t even have a stomach, as the elevator doors slide open in front of you.

“heh, just kidding. i’m made of magic, you’re the one with that mixture mixin’ around in ya.” You’re the only two to step into the elevator, so you don’t have to worry about the shakes making you trip over anyone, as you hit the button at the top that simply says ‘Bhodeck’ next to it. The gleaming silver elevator doors close, and you can feel it slowly pulling you up, while the same music you listened to while on hold last week plays. With the elevator providing plenty of space, you turn and face each other.

“So, uh… did you have a nice walk here?”

“didn’t die on the way, so i’d say so. riverperson said something, something, dressing up for weddings, so that was interesting.”

“W-weddings?”

“yeah, usually they’re a little more on point. maybe they started their new year drinkin’ too early. was a nice stroll, though, didn’t have to make any skulls roll on the way. how ‘bout you?”

“Mine was fine, had some big crowds to get around, but I survived, too.”

“ya probably did better than i could’ve. i’d be gettin’ a nice view of everyone’s backs the whole way.”

“I still get a lot of those, too, but when you’re living here, you get used to it. If this isn’t usually your cup of tea, surface cities really wouldn’t be your thing.”

“oh, i learned that the hard way. went to this packed city for a trip once, and had to wait half an hour for my turn at a ‘dog stand.”

“I thought you’d said before you’re fine with waiting in lines.”

“it’s not that i had to wait that long, it’s that after all that time, i went up, made a joke, and asked for ketchup on mine.”

“Oh, no. You poor thing.” Immediately, you’re unable to stop yourself from laying a hand on Sans’ shoulder. You’d heard enough stories about ketchup and hot dogs on the surface to know where that was going.

“it was ok. only got a couple bone bruises, and they were fun to show off at parties. how’d ya know right where the blow on my shoulder was, though?”

“Wait, really? It’s right where I placed it?”

“yup. clearly, you’re learning how magic works behind my spine, if ya can find comfort spots by instinct.”

“I-I’m not-” The elevator reaches the top floor, and the doors pull open. There’s a party of ten waiting on the other side, and now each of them have a first-class seat to watching you with your hand on your friend’s shoulder. Reluctantly letting go of the shoulder, you turn yourself towards the entrance to the restaurant and mutter a little ‘sorry’ to the crowd as you go by. Sans follows right behind you, so he doesn’t get lost in the tall crowd, and after you and him get past that bunch, you get a brilliant view of the interior. You’re certain you made the right choice for where to go.

The roof and floor each carry a modern look that’s a mix of Underground and surface designs; squares of different sizes adorn the floor and ceiling, while some black cubes that somehow let off a dark light are floating off the ground.

“only magic can explain something as en-lightening as that.” Sans is raising his feet up and whispering in your ear. Feeling a little more confident than earlier, you fire one back.

“You’re telling me, my bulb would be blown if I saw that when I was growing up.” With puns making you both feel more at ease, you’re able to admire more of the design. The full-wall windows show the beauty of the surrounding high rise, with windows in the distance being lit up like a swarm of lightning bugs got loose. You’re also able to see how the restaurant slowly rotates; the buildings all keep slightly moving to the left. You’ll be able to get a view of the entire skyline.

“Hope they don’t have a hyper hour, where this thing spins like a record player.”

“yeah, we might have to **beat** it if that happens. it’d **strum** up a lotta bummers if we couldn’t stay.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Walking a bit further, you approach the booth where the server’s located. It’s a yellow dinosaur-like monster that sort of reminds you of Brenda, only a lot younger.

“Greetings, welcome to Bhodeck Bar & Restaurant! Have ya placed a reservation for today?” It’s the same voice as when you placed your request for a table; this must be that Monster Adolescent that’d set it up for you. You’re relieved to not see any bruises on their head.

“Yep, a table for two under the name ‘Protag’.”

“welp, that puts a couple theories to rest.”

“What were those?”

“now i know this ain’t a group date, and that your name hasn’t been ‘vhs tape’ this whole time. i’d be devastated if ya were keeping a secret like that from me.” He winks.

“My name might not be VHS Tape, but you’ve sure played me a lot with your jokes.” Oh, how the tides have turned. Now he’s the one all out of words, as you look back at Monster Adolescent.

“Alrighty, lesse here…” They look at their screen, fortunately not having to do any head-slamming this time.

“Yep, you’re all good to go! I’ll lead ya right to your table.” In a flash, they spring up from their seat and lead forward into the busy crowd, with you and Sans doing your best job to keep up. To your relief, when you’re able to catch up with them, you see that the table’s right next to the window wall, as you were hoping for.

“Here you are! Get comfy, and one of our waiters or waitresses will be with you shortly, amigos!” Spinning around on one foot, they zip back to their booth, and you find yourself hoping the managers have taken notice of the enthusiasm they have. As polite as they were, though, Sans is the reason you’re here. Wanting to be a gentleman, you pull one of the chairs at the little table out for him to sit on.

“what a kind sack ‘o skin.” He pretends to do a little bow, and sits down on the chair. Once he’s seated, you pull your own chair out, and find yourself inclined to look at it first to make sure no whoopee-cushion land mines have been set.

“what, ya thought i was gonna prank you on a date? what kinda weirdo’s gonna do that?”

“The same one that makes someone carry a hot dog on their head the whole way home if they wanna eat it.” When you’re sure there’s nothing on the chair that’s set to go off, you sit down yourself, and are now closely sitting face to face with your date. From his sitting position, the v-neck under his jacket’s showing off a little more rib than before. It’s not enough for you and him to be asked to leave, but just enough to get more of your flurries going. From the bit you can see, they seem to have perfect curvature, contrasting Sans’ lack of wanting perfectionism. There’s a pair of menus sitting on top of the table, but it’s hard to open it when your eyes have found their entrée already. You’re not the only one that puts this together, either.

“sorry, bud, but if ya wanted ribs tonight, these ones aren’t for sale. not a lotta meat on ‘em, anyway.”

“Oh, um, m-my bad. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“nah, you’re not intruding. i wouldn’t-a had a rib-bon to give ya if ya didn’t look all night.”

“Haha, thanks for understanding. Sorry I’m not showing that part off myself.”

“no worries, my lil’ visit last week was a big enough bonebardment of stuff to last a long time.”

“But I have flesh over my-” You cut yourself off when you see the waitress has already been waiting by the table for a few moments. She’s a monster made entirely of green flame, just like Grillby, aside from the color difference. If you’d never been to his pub, you might’ve been concerned right about now, but he’s helped you learn that fire monsters don’t burn down any buildings they step in, unless their joke caliber leaves things in shambles.

“Hello, welcome to Bhodeck. My name’s Fuku, I’ll be serving you two tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Oh, my apologies! Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” Opening up the menus, you both take a quick glance at the drink menu. It’d be awkward to keep Fuku waiting much longer, so you turn to Sans.

“Sans, did you know what you wanna drink? Get anything you want, it’s my treat.”

“Aww, so you two are dating?” Hearing someone else say it makes it sink in a lot deeper. You and Sans both get flushed up a bit, but you decide to speak up on his behalf.

“Y-y-yeah, it’s our second dinner together. This place is new for both of us, so we wanted to give it a shot.” Sans looks back up from his menu, so your stalling must’ve given him enough time to find something.

“yuppers, this knucklehead invited me here. the citrus peach cooler, please.” You appreciate that Sans was looking at the non-alcoholic section, like you’d been doing. You’re not exactly sure what alcohol does to a monster’s body, but regardless, this should be a night the two of you can remember without fault.

“Sounds good…” She jots it down on her notepad. “And what would the human like tonight?”

Glancing over the list again, you find the tea section, and spot one that’s perfect. Sans could reach some new shades of blue in a few seconds. Looking him straight in the pupils, you quickly let Fuku what you want.

“Could I please have the raspberry tea?”

Bingo. Sans is doing his best to hold off a laugh, while his cheeks resemble the sky on the surface on a clear afternoon.

“Alright, citrus peach cooler and raspberry tea it is, then. Is there a starter the two of you would like to devour, hand in hand?” Apparently, Fuku caught wind of Sans’ blushing, and struck. It sure isn’t gonna make you complain. Doing your best to pry your eyes away from his cheeks, you look through the starters. Towards the bottom, there’s an appetizer that’s one of the least fancy things you’ve ever seen on a menu, but you know Sans would love it. As you look up from the menu, Sans is staring back at you as well, and with the big grin that’s on his face, you can tell you’re on the same wave link.

“Yes.”

“yup. could we please get the ‘dog bites?” Sadly, the waitress doesn’t make any jokes about dogs biting. You’ll have to think one up later.

“Sure thing. If that’s all, I’ll be back later with the drinks and appetizer, and I’ll take your entrée orders then.”

“Sounds good, thanks a bunch.” She smiles a bit, seemingly appreciating the kindness during the busy shift, and walks off.

“even here, you can’t escape from the ‘dog life.”

“Not complaining about that at all. You’ve been turning me into a hot-dog connoisseur, myself.”

“heheh, glad i could meaten up your horizons.” His blush hasn’t fully gone away.

“What’re you feeling so blue over? I’d tell you there’s nothing to be raining on your parade, but you’re not the sad type of blue.”

“oh, i still am? huh…” His pupils dart around again.

“guess it hit me how darn polite you are.”

“It wasn’t much, just wanted her to know I appreciate her work. I get a kick out of people saying thanks during their busy days at the store, and I’m sure you do, too, when people approve of your ‘dogs.”

“i know, i know, it always just sounds so real from ya. it’s like the cheese from one of those pre-packed pizzas.”

“But that’s fake cheese.”

“not down here, it ain’t.”

“Well, I appreciate you comparing me to Underground cheese, then. I’ll see if you grill me with any more jokes tonight.”

“heheh, ya got me good there.” While the two of you sit at the table and blush like the complete dorks you are, some easy listening surface music starts playing over the speakers. They’re floating around the restaurant, to provide the best surround sound they can. (<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mT5Od3ObrU>)

“huh, this is a nice beat. needs some trombone, though.”

“It’s all electric, so maybe some serenading from you would be the right final touch.”

“maybe. haven’t practiced much this week, though.”

“Uh oh, you’re sure monsters don’t get sick?” You immediately realize it’s silly asking that to someone that’s known the answer to that their whole life.

“yeah, it wasn’t anything like that. i’m not gonna collapse and be taken to the boneyard anytime soon.”

“I’d hope not. Something bothering you, anyway?”

“the opposite. when i’m about to play, i think ‘bout that time ya watched me have my lil’ concert.”

“Aww, you’ve remembered that?”

“of course i remembered. when it means a dork held your hand for the first time after, it’s gotta be a pretty big deal-io in my book. makes me chuckle too much to play anything but some womps, even if papyrus hadn’t done anything to need them.” He’s done a solid job shooting the flushness back at you like a tennis ball, but you press through.

“W-whoops, sorry for messing with your practice schedule.”

“never had one. do i look like the kinda guy to schedule somethin’ like that?” He gives his chin a drawn-out scratch, knowing you’ll be watching every joint in his hand that’s moving.

“Don’t think so. You’d be in a lotta **treble** if you made it unfun with practice days.”

“aww, come on, trombone’s a bass clef instrument. that’s the most **bassic** detail out there.”

“Didn’t know your music library held so many jokes, too.”

“got charts full of ‘em. hope that demo makes ya believe me.” Sans’ ensemble of jokes wasn’t something you’re expecting, but it’s a side of his puns you’re happy exists. When the laughs wear down, though, you notice something that’s starting to wear on you that can’t be ignored.

“Uh oh, think I need to excuse myself real quick.”

“you’re gonna leave me with the bill?”

“No, no, you goof, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick. I’ll try to be back before the drinks and ‘dogs are ready.”

“fair enough. go do that gross stuff humans do.” You jokingly push his hand back from off the table before working your way towards the bathroom. It’s in the circular center area near the kitchen, so you don’t have to worry about entering through the spinning part and falling out of the building when coming out. The bathroom itself is pretty similar to a typical surface one, since the building was designed to actually have humans in it. There’s more than one place you’ve come across with no toilets, where you had to hold for way longer than you’d have wanted to. Nothing wacky happens in there; you do your business, make sure to wash your hands well, in case your hands touch when grabbing for ‘dog bites soon, and head out.

Stepping out the bathroom, you can see the white from Sans’ bones pop out from the rest of his surroundings. The blush on his face is gone, and now he seems to be doing more thumb-twiddling to pass the time while you’re gone. Feeling ready for whatever the rest of this date has to offer, you make your way back to the table.

There’s just one problem on the way, though, and it comes in the form of Jerry.

Jerry’s being seated at a table near yours, all by himself. With his expression the same as always, it doesn’t seem like that’s a problem, but anyone in his surroundings isn’t a problem, either. Since he’s facing to the side, you can’t judge just how long his head is, so when he turns around, you hit it like a tripwire. It sends you off your feet, and your vision’s rocketing down towards the floor.

Well, this sure wasn’t how you were expecting the date to end. It might mean getting whisked away to the brothers’ house for some more ice and oatmeal, like the last time you got banged up, but you’d had this whole day planned out since Friday now. It was the perfect opportunity for you and Sans to have a quality meal together, share some things, and maybe even answer some lingering questions. Now, with that one miscue, it’s coming to a sharp, violent end…

Until, that is, it isn’t.

A blue light suddenly shines around you, and your face stops mere inches from the ground. Despite the unexpected job, your equilibrium wasn’t thrown off at all, and looking downwards, you see that it’s because none of your body’s hitting the floor. Turning your head back up, you see Sans tightly sitting on the front of his chair, with his left arm reached out. It’s the same kind of floating that he made the swarm of homophobes do long ago, but now that you can see the front of him, you’ve got a front row seat to the glowing blue eye that’s formed up in his left eye socket.

“gotcha, buddy. no broken noses on my watch.” There’s a concerned, yet relieved look on the rest of Sans’ face, as he lifts you back up to your feet, and the pull’s got an oddly gentle motion to it. Maybe he’s able to make it feel different for his friends, rather than people he’s trying to make go away. When your shoes are securely touching the ground, he lets go of the pull, and his pupils go back to normal. As you look around the restaurant, you see that most of the monsters were looking in your direction, but once they see that you’re alright, they turn back to their meals and company. Jerry, on the other hand, doesn’t seem pleased.

“Well? You’re not gonna apologize for giving my head a tussle?” It’s the first time you’ve felt an anger brew over a monster, and you hope it’s also the last. As irritating as it is, you don’t want to have the same sort of short temper that many of the humans you used to be surrounded by had, so you close your eyes for a moment, take some deep breaths while thinking of the bigger picture, and turn around as you open them back up. The rest of the walk back goes on without any trips, and you cautiously ease your way back into your seat, eye to eye socket with Sans again.

“Can’t thank you enough for that. Would’ve made this nice place real ugly, real fast.”

“no problemo. don’t think you were plannin’ on a side of tomato sauce with your entrée that soon. try not to mind jerry, he can be the dullest pencil in the whole drawer. whole hometown’s had to deal with his attitude one way or another.”

“I won’t bring him up again, but he’d better not trip you over, too.”

“eh, i’d hope he’d have the headspace to not do that again. check out the meals, protag, don’t want ya to hafta make a split pea decision.”

“Thanks for looking out for me, don’t think I had split pea soup in mind tonight.” Listening to his suggestion, you open up the menu again and browse through the entrées. There’s definitely an abundance of great choices, but it’s harder to get your mind into it right now, after what’d just unfolded. It’d only been the second time you’d seen Sans do that, and you’re grateful his instinct’s speed was able to suddenly shift up a couple gears. If he couldn’t do that, you’d be in a rather poor spot right about now, much like if he hadn’t been around when those- those humans struck…

The mental reminder of that day sets off something earlier in the evening you’d been wondering about. It’s not the humans themselves, the panic on their faces and the speed they ran away at made it abundantly clear that they’d never be coming around again. What’s bothering you is the thing they picked a fight over; your orientation. You’re not sure how much of it Sans had heard before he came to your aid, but the reason they’d gone after you was seeing you in close proximity to the skeleton, and that not being what they wanted to see. You’d never told him what pushed them to do that, and if he’d never heard it, he might have no idea that you’re gay.

Further pressing the mental bump is that you’d never asked him where his interests are, either. Since you’d just seen each other as relaxed friends for the longest time, asking Sans never seemed like a necessary thing to do. In a setting like this, though, does he see it as a date, or a “date”? As far as you know, he might not even like guys nearly as far as you’ve pressed things, and as a friend, you really don’t want to push him towards any direction he doesn’t want to go in. He’s seemed to be all smiles tonight, but you still see this as something to bring up soon. Finding out he could be hiding how he really feels would be the worst emotion to take in, but if that’s the case, it’ll have to be done.

“find anything that tongue of yours wants to lather itself in?”

“Hrm? Oh, uh, not yet, still trying to give it all a better look. Don’t worry about the G at all, get absolutely anything you want.”

“so an order of two hundred steaks would be fine right about now?”

“…Okay, better way of putting it, anything you want that you know you can stomach.”

“i can’t stomach anything. geez, you’re bein’ real picky here with my choices.”

“You win.” That topic might still be bothering you, but it’s best to listen to Sans and not end up not having a selection when the waitress comes back. Glancing through the entrées again, you come across a noodle bowl that sounds like it’d definitely hit the spot, but you don’t want Sans thinking you’re trying to find an alternative to the noodles Papyrus provides. Further down the list, though, there’s a particular item that catches your eye as soon as it comes across it.

A square of mosaic sushi. It’s the sort of dish your culinary palate has been looking for for years, and then some. In it, there’s sixteen different sushi pieces, each with their own extravagant theme. Some have a coating of fish egg on top in both large and small sizes, while others hold a light spice on top to mix with the lovingly-cut pieces of fish, as shown in the picture. Your mind’s having a rough time putting it to words, given just how much detail there is, but after quickly looking through the rest of the options, you’re certain that it’s what you’d like. It’ll have a bit of a hefty price to it, but with the joy your mouth’s about to receive, you don’t have a shadow of a doubt.

“Found something real good.”

“me, too. not telling, though. where’s the fun if i can’t make the wait painfully hard?”

“Oh, I’m not telling _you_, either. My lips are zipped shut.”

“you’re ordering a zipper? didn’t know humans could have fine dining by just biting the zippers off their jackets.”

“Zip it, you.” Before either of you can get any farther away from zipping up your jokes, the aroma of hot dogs comes into play. Looking to your left, you can see Fuku returning to your table with a platter in her hands, not leaving any singe marks while doing so. The little bowl of hot dog bites sits in the middle, with the drinks resting on each side. Each tiny ‘dog sits comfortably in its own bun, with a bottle of ketchup resting on top. If Sans flies through his peach cooler right away, he’ll have another drink to go after at no charge at all. Setting the platter down, Fuku hands the drinks off.

“Citrus peach cooler for the skeleton, raspberry tea for the human, and hot dog bites for the table. Do you two know what you’d like to order for your meals?”

“Yes, we do. Could I please have the mosaic sushi?” Before you’d said that, Sans’ pupils had been marveling at the ‘dog bites, but he now turns them towards you. His body’s completely still, as if he’s pretending to be one of the statues at the nearby museum.

“welp, looks like my dinner buddy’s a mind reader. might need to take ya to a psychologist after this. double up the sushi, please, looks real good.” Mind reader? The exact same order? You’re lucky the appetizer smells good enough to keep you aware of things, or you’re sure your mind would’ve conked out from taking that all in at once.

“Alright, then, two orders of the mosaic. Anything else?”

“No, that should be g-good.” With your orders placed, Fuku takes the menus and walks off again. You and Sans are back to your privacy, now stunned at how you could order the same meal for the second dinner together in a row.

“is that dream job of yours fortune telling or somethin’? if you can tell me what i’m gonna be wearing on my feet tomorrow, i’ll be chilled to the bone.”

“Pink slippers?”

“yup, there it is. complete mental agony. the only way you can make up for somethin’ so horrid is buying dinner for me.”

“That’s what I’m already doing.”

“oh. there goes that plan.” Sans reaches for his peach cooler glass with his uncovered right hand, and holds it up. Knowing what he wants to do, you reach for your own glass and hold it by his, while hoping the suave movement you’re giving it covers the vibrating feeling you’ve got in your gut.

“welp, here we are. to two dweebs staying hydrated.”

“Yes, to hydration and dweebness forever.” You’re not sure if Sans really needs hydration, but with how smoothly he said that, you weren’t gonna cut him off. Clinking glasses, you each take your first sip. Sans pours the drink right onto his mouth, but as expected, every drop finds the splits between his teeth and runs through them. You’re fully aware of the irony of the drink you got, so you get daring and give him a bit of a seductive look while taking in some of the raspberry tea, and judging by his chuckle and the light blue that’s building up on his cheeks again, it’s doing its job. Gulping the sip down, you set the glass back on the table.

“Neat to see you’ve poured yourself into the field of fancy drinks.”

“heheh, yeah, i’m always tryin’ to find new ones. it’d get boring havin’ one soda over and over again, so it’s a so-duh choice to try different stuff. after a bite-o those, though, i might hafta take back all that about new things bein’ better.” He points the hand that doesn’t have the glass in it at the steaming hot-dogs.

“You go first, you’re the master.”

“no doubt. master of hot dogs, pullin’ your wheat, makin’ the bread, spreadin’ the cheese.” You’re not sure where the sudden Metallica reference came from, but Sans doesn’t give you enough time to think about it before grabbing the ketchup bottle and giving the first of the mini-dogs a hearty coating. He holds it up to his nose hole to take a sniff in, fortunately not sneezing out onto it again, and then takes a ‘bite’. With whatever equivalent of chewing he has going on, his mouth’s too full to say what he thinks, but the growing grin lets you know it was a solid choice. It relieves you to know you chose a place that meets his hot dog demands. Eventually, you can hear a cute, deep swallowing noise, implying the hot dog’s already become skeletal fuel.

“superb. bun’s got just the right fluff to it, meat’s nice ‘n tendy, and they chose the right condiment.”

“If you take your hot dog reviews that seriously, I’m surprised I haven’t seen a column of yours in any magazines yet.”

“not a bad idea. don’t have to worry ‘bout being beskulled for telling the truth ‘bout ketchup.” He takes in the rest of the ‘dog on his next bite, and seems to light up even more from it than the last one. There’s plenty left for you to grab one, but you find yourself more pushed to watch Sans and his relaxed state. The longer you think over it, though, the more you realize that’s not the only thing.

You still hadn’t brought up the point of Sans’ comfort with dating. With the orders for the entrées placed, there’s not exactly a way out of it now if he wasn’t, but you still find it crucial to know regardless. If you both want to, this could be the second dinner of many, and maybe someday you could casually get coffee and donuts together. That’s its own beast to tackle another day, though. Being a bit lost in thought, you’re unable to tell that your shoulders are slumping a bit, which Sans picks up on right away. He finishes the hot dog, and his face turns from a smile into one of curiosity.

“something up, protag? i know nothin’s down, saved ya from dealing with that just a few minutes ago.” He can’t help but smirk and look away for a moment, before turning his attention back to you.

“if you’re feeling embarrassed about it, please don’t. they all just wanted to make sure no one’s evening got busted up, they’ll forget it soon. besides, it’s jerry. what else were they expecting?”

“Thanks again for the save, but it’s not that. It’s something about this.”

“this? like the view? but we’ve got such a nice view of society from this angle.” Pointing at the window, you see that the restaurant’s rotated enough to be in clear view of a main street, where a drunken crowd’s wandering around. Some of them are starting to jump on each other’s shoulders, making you even more relieved that monster healing works as fast as it does.

“No, it’s not that, either, the view’s g-great. It’s about…” You pause another moment, not sure how to get into it.

“protag, i’m your annoying guest. let me be your punching back for whatever you feel like throwing.” Turning your attention back from the window, you can see the concerned slight smile on his face, and it hits that with how long you’ve known him, bringing up something like this isn’t going to lower anything. Fighting yourself inside is the only wrong thing to keep doing. Letting a sigh out, you cut to the chase, in a slightly hushed voice.

“It’s about what it means for us doing things like this. Nothing bad, of course, want you to know that first and foremost.” Sans sets his glass down, his expression paying clear attention to what you’re saying.

“So, when I called you earlier in the week and invited you, you saw this as a d-date, right?”

“yup. you wanted to get together, have some chat away from all the other stuff out there, and get some grub. sounds like it checks off all the date boxes to me.”

“And us together like this, it definitely, erm… does feel like a date to you?”

“’course it does. we dressed up all spiffy, i’ve gotten to rib it to ya the whole time, we’ve been all smiles, and ya got a tea that tastes like my spit. can’t think of anything else that’d feel more like a date. what’s gotcha all junior jumbled about it?”

“W-well, I realized I’d never asked you if you’d been on any dates before, so I wanted to make sure this kind of a setting’s something your bones are comfortable with.”

“nothin’ but the comfiest bones here, you don’t need to think ‘bout silly things like that. besides, i bought ya a meal first, so that’s gotta mean something about tonight.” He winks, lifting a little off your chest, but the problem’s still not solved. His answers could mean more than one thing, based on whatever he sees a date as. It’s time to go all in.

“Haha, you’re right about that. My biggest thought through all this, though, is making sure doing this kind of… thing… is something you’re comfortable with around someone like m-me.”

“why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s something I-I’d never seen a need to mention yet, since it’s just a part of me, and I’d seen you and me as just on the casual friend side of things before, and… and…”

“protag, whatever it is, it’s ok. do i look like i’d use my energy to get bent outta shape over anything?” Not knowing how to verbally respond to that right now, you shake your head, and reach the point.

“…And i’d never had the confidence from all my years on the surface to share here that I-I’m… a gay dude…”

“and ya didn’t think you’d be sharing a table with another gay dude?” Any self-doubt you had just went crashing through the large glass window.

“…Y-You’re also-”

“yup. i’m gay, too, broski.”

The stress your mind had been in implodes, and a shining light of ecstasy fills its place.

“Wow, um… you just saved me a great deal of wondering. I didn’t know how monsters bring that sort of thing up, so I had no clue how to ask.”

“it’s not a big deal at all. i can talk about it the same way i’d talk about goin’ down the street to get some milk for my brother. none-o that dumb judging down here, me bein’ a fan of the dudes isn’t gonna blow the pub up when i go there for my shows. that’s only before the shows start, though, anything that smashes from all the laughing is totally my fault.”

“So you can just bring that up somewhere like the dinner table, and it’s treated like anything else?”

“yuppers. if anything, it’d just make the rest of a group dying to know if there’s any cute broskis i’ve found lately. doesn’t matter if you’re into dudes, girls, anyone between, or big metal toasters. none of them wind up being seen as the ‘normal’ one. what’s the point in wasting time over something like that?”

“Sans, if I didn’t love it down here enough already, you just filled the jar of reasons even higher. That’s exactly how it should be seen, there’s no normal or abnormal way of being attracted to other people.”

“never got why that was a problem when i lived up there a bit. think of all the moaning those jerks could do at home, instead of using that energy out on the sidewalks. all they’re gonna do is prove they deserve all the moron trophies.”

“Sheesh, exactly. I’d gotten one too many jabs over what kinds of people get me all warmed up, and that’s when I knew I needed something different. If it’s something you can talk about like any other subject, then, how long’s it been since you, like… found out?”

“oh, that goes way back. when i was just little bones, i was taught to like whoever i wanna like, just like everyone else my age, and it made enough sense. soon after, i was starting up at school, and there was this poster near my room that my little trickster hands wanted to goof around with. guess i didn’t know any better yet.”

“What’d you do with it?”

“asked my teacher if i could go ‘get some water’, then went out to the hall. i did get that drink first, though, so no one could say i was lying, and once i’d gotten that sweet, sweet hydration, tiny me ran over to that poster. it was a bunch of sentries posing together, with some blurb about helping others bein’ important. tried to see what i could scribble over with my pencil, and…” Sans suddenly closes his eyes.

“Everything alright?”

“heheh… yeah, it’s just funny to think back to. i looked over that poster, and when my pupils saw the dude sentries, i sorta… froze up. first time i saw someone and thought they were real good lookin’. the rest of the guys on it made me think the same thing, but none of the girls did. ended up not scribbling over anyone, if those ladies were the dudes’ friends, i didn’t wanna mess with ‘em.” He’s finding it harder to hold back laughter, apparently trying his best to move on to what he’s about to say next.

“so, when i went back to the classroom, the teacher asked if i had a real nice drink, since it two whole minutes, and in this chippy lil’ voice, i said, ‘yep! found out i’m gay while i was at it!’” You’re glad you hadn’t had any of your tea in your mouth when he said that, cause you would’ve done a complete spit take if you had. The joy from your conflict being over with spills out into some loud laughs, and for at least a moment, you don’t care an ounce if anyone looks. Remembering the story and seeing your laughter makes Sans join in as well, and your table’s become nothing short of a giggling mess. After catching your breath, you’re the first one to speak up.

“And… ahaha… what’d your class do after?”

“they all laughed, but it was from how spontaneous it was. guess that side of me drifted off a bit. lunch time was right after, so once they had their sammiches, they forgot all about it. it’s for the best, i wasn’t gonna make any more of a deal outta that, anyway.”

“Sounds like a real nice group of kids. Surface schools could learn a thing or two from that.”

“oh, that was just a normal bunch, you’d have your typical things pulled off walls, n all that. if the not-goody-two-shoes class still treats everyone the same, though, then yeah, there’s a problem or two up on the surface they gotta fix.”

“No question. With how much ‘straight’ is paraded around as the typical way to live, people like me end up on the curb of that deal.” You take a moment to pause yourself.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bring up something less fun after as great of a story as yours.”

“nah, don’t sweat over your plate, your childhood around all that skin’s just as important. i’ll never get how one way of living there’s seen like a norm over the others. if you told that to a monster, they’d say you’re reading the wrong kinds of books from the dump.”

“It’ll never stop amazing me just how pure this side of things is with that. Everyone just… lives their own path, with nothing in the way.”

“that’s why it peeves me so deep that ya couldn’t have that growing up. had to learn that people judge and hold standards for that, and honestly, it was a scary thing to figure out.”

“I’m still in one piece, and I can still smile, so I didn’t get hit all that bad, but it still wasn’t all that comfortable. All I’d wanted was to be myself.” Sans looks around the restaurant, and once he’s sure there aren’t any other humans around, he speaks in the same hushed tone from earlier.

“i dunno if you’ve been flippy like a flip flop over whether or not you’re gonna stay down here, but if ya do, you’ll never have to worry ‘bout those things again. if you’re from here and your name’s not jerry, you’ve learned to appreciate all the bells ‘n whistles life’s got. there’s no point saying there’s a normal way we all gotta live. if you moved back, i’d have to come there for more dinners, anyways, and neither of us want those kinds of worries in the back of our skulls.” Hearing him say ‘more dinners’ is another quick ticket up to cloud ten, but you keep your focus on what he’s been saying, and you’re happy to let him know right away to not be concerned.

“I’ve got no plans to move back there. This is where my heart’s happiest, and I’m still hopeful that the dream job’s gonna land someday. Until then, I can keep finding new places, trying new things, and growing closer with the wonderful people I’ve known already.”

“there ya go, buddy. if peace and ‘dogs are what ya want, then this is the place to find ‘em.” Sans grabs the second of the four little hot dogs, and you help yourself to one as well. He’s right about the bun having the right level of softness, as well as the meat having a solid level of tenderness, but you’d still take his craft any day. There’s only one left once you’ve each finished yours, so he nudges the little platter in your direction, and takes another sip of his drink.

“besides, now that i know you’re definitely gonna stick around, i can spread out the fresh new set of zingers i’ve got.”

“Really? What kinds of zingers?”

“well, now we both you know you get the feels for people like me, and i get the feels for people like you.”

“And?”

“it means now i can tell you how adorkable you are.” Again, you’re glad Sans is courteous enough to wait until your mouth’s empty, cause you’re sure you’d be choking on hot dog right now if he didn’t.

“Oh, cripes, I guess I really have opened a whole new world up for you.”

“yup. guess i shouldn’t say yet how you’d freeze me if i looked at those eyes-icles of yours for too long.”

“You j-just did, you goofball.”

“oh. whoops. that’s ruined.”

“You’re not ruining anything but my pulse, which is probably flying through the roof now.”

“yikes. guess i’m gonna have my hands on a real hand-some problem now.” You can manage to still see his wink through all the warmth and little compulsions this is dealing out.

“W-well, you’re not the only one that can do that! I can fire that ammo right back at you!”

“oh, you can? go on. i’m listening.” Sans eases back in his chair, with a bit of a smug look on his face. He thinks he’s got you speechless, and for a moment, you think he’s right. After failing to string a joke together in your head, though, your heart tells you to say something different, and you go for it.

“…Yeah, I can tell you how you’re the cutest, funniest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met, with or without skin, and that no guy on the surface or in the Underground could ever compare.” Pushing it all out in one breath, you have to sit back in your own chair from the effort, and end up with a perfect view of Sans’ smugness breaking into pieces, and a surprised face with some deep blue blush taking its place.

“really?”

“Yes, really, you bonehead.” He’s the speechless one now, as he looks down at the table with his right arm rubbing his opposite shoulder.

“aww, geez, buddy, that means a lot. mighta said earlier your outfit’s cute, but it’s a lot more than that that’s firing off the dopamine right now.”

“Sans, we’re having this really heartfelt moment, and now’s when you bring back the science jokes?”

“yes, protag, and as long as you’re a cutie, which seems like it’ll be forever, then you’re gonna have to put up with them.” Neither of you can look the other in the eye, and you’re too struck from this completely platonic moment to notice at first that Fuku’s returned.

“Two mosaics, for the blush bunch.” You snap out of your daze and look back at the waitress, who’s now setting the sushi on the table. Each piece has been meticulously put together, with different cuts of fish, circles of rice and seaweed, and lovingly prepared sauces drizzled across. Sans works his way out of his own trance and admires his serving, looking incredibly invested in all the detail.

“S-sorry, thank you very much for these.”

“No problem. If you need anything, give me a holler.” She walks off again to serve another table, leaving you and Sans with the sight and aroma of the sushi. The skeleton’s the first one to break the quiet.

“hey. protag.”

“Yeah?”

“guess there’s four rainbows at this table now.” It’s painfully hard to not let out a jubilant laugh, but you reel it in and try to not let your head implode. Seemingly from enough practice, Sans does a better job at keeping himself together, and grabs the chopsticks that were set by the sushi.

“warning ya, i’m a master with these things. this roll’s gonna get chopsticked like no roll’s been chopsticked before.”

“You don’t have to chop me to pieces with your words to get me to agree, I believe you.” Grabbing your own chopsticks, you ease them down towards a pink piece, and Sans quickly scoops up an orange one with his. He proudly holds the square up, without a single bit of rice falling out.

“here’s to dinner numero dos. we’re gonna be sleeping with the fishes after this, something this good’s gotta be a crime to eat.” Cautiously, you raise your piece up to your mouth to take in, while watching Sans dramatically slap his onto his teeth. It makes the same noise as slapping a helping of pudding with a spoon, and it once again seeps between his teeth, with ‘magic’ being the only reason your mind can think of. It’s a good enough one for you to not dig any farther. He was right about it being a crime to eat; it’s possibly the best mix of flavors your mouth’s ever gotten to enjoy. Once it’s been swallowed, you turn your attention to Sans’ bite.

“What do you think? Worth the choice?”

“oh, absolutely. the way they wrapped this salmon ‘round the rice is top notch, and that bit of red saucy stuff they dripped on top gives it that sweet aftertaste. i promise i didn’t coat it in ketchup again, that can go on almost anything, but sushi’s its own art.”

“Woah, another food for you to write a column about. You really know your stuff.”

“might seem like i’m treating you like you’re gill-ible, but i’m being real honest. best sushi i’ve had in a long, long time.” With no reason to wait, you get after the next piece, this one having an elegant seaweed wrap around it. It tastes far different than the last one, but is wonderful in its own way. Sans gets back after his as well, and helps himself to an Inari square. There’s the same slapping noise when it hits his teeth, and it sets off more butterflies in your gut watching his smile grow as the sushi works its way into his mouth.

There isn’t much talk, once you’ve both started going to town on the food. Each piece brings in its own new mix of flavors that you’ve never tried together before, leaving you appreciating the creativity of the humans and monsters that put it together. Your date continues to enjoy his as well, politely slapping all the pieces onto his teeth and taking his time to savor each detail the sushi offers. The restaurant keeps up its slow spinning throughout the meal, giving more and more spectacular views of the city that you’d probably be paying more attention to, if Sans and the sushi weren’t enough to take in. Sadly, as all good things must come to an end, you eventually gobble down the final piece, and set your chopsticks down with a full stomach. Sans still has to finish his last bite, so you drink the rest of your tea while looking out the window. It’s been long enough for the restaurant to spin back to the view it was at when you started.

“That was excellent, definitely glad we got it.”

“no kidding. my taste palate really needed that tuna-p.”

“Pfff, mine did, too. Want any dessert?”

“nah, there’s a big school o’ fish in my bones now. don’t think they’d care for chocolate all that much.” The corner of your eye can see Fuku coming by, so you awkwardly raise your left hand up a bit, not exactly sure how monster customs work for something like this. Your excitement over tonight must’ve kept you from doing that research.

“Excuse me, we’re ready for the bill now, if it’s an alright time.”

“Sure is.” She pulls a blocky device out of her pocket, and after punching some of the keys on it, it makes a comically loud ka-ching sound, and prints out a little paper. Pulling out a pen, she hands it and the paper your way.

“Here you are, thank you for coming to Bhodeck tonight. Bummed I missed the main event tonight, though.”

“The main event?”

“Yeah, you two look like you’re dying to smooch each other. I’ve got no clue how you haven’t yet, guess the streets are gonna get that show instead. Either way, hope to see you around sometime.” She leaves you with the bill, as well as leaving you and Sans in a fairly awkward spot.

“heheh, guess she’s got a thing for watching really, really good pals make out, then. right?”

“Oh, um, yeah, totally. The greatest of pals.” The idea she brought up was too enveloping for you to really focus on what he asked. Reading over the bill, you can see that the total’s not the prettiest, but for the enjoyment you and Sans have gotten out of tonight, it’s worth every G, and then some. Pulling a hearty amount of G out of your pocket for the meal and a decent tip, you sit up from the chair, and check around to see if Jerry’s still around. He’s not, so his meal must’ve been rapid fire.

“You ready to head out, Sans?”

“one more thing.” He stands up, straightens out his jacket, which pulls his shirt more downwards for a moment and gives you a premier look at the top of his ribs, and grabs the uneaten hot dog from earlier.

“there’s a pooch in town that’d like this, if you’re cool with me stealing it. i dunno what papyrus’ll think, but that doggo’s little face deserves a bite.”

“By all means, take it. I’m sure that dog deserves a little munchie like that.” Standing side by side, you step away from the window, and stride to the elevator in the center of the restaurant, while Sans stuffs the food into his hoodie pocket for safekeeping.

“Have a great rest of your night, dudes! Leave a review on our Undernet site if you liked it here!” You don’t have a good feeling you’ll be heard over the noise of the crowd, so a thumbs up towards Monster Adolescent does the trick. Hitting the button to open up the elevator, you and Sans step inside, and have a silent ride downwards, aside from the same music as earlier. Neither of you know what to say yet, after everything that went down in there.

When the elevator reaches the bottom floor, the cooler air from the lack of a crowd feels great on your skin, as you stroll your way to the entrance of the hotel. Holding the door open for Sans, he gives your ribs a gentle bump with his elbow and walks forward. Meeting him on the other side, it’s a lot easier to make conversation; a lot of the hubbub from the streets during the dinner rush has leveled out by now.

“thanks for the grub.” He stays silent after that.

“You know, if it was three months ago, I’d be a little confused, but I’ve learned your ways now.”

“heheh, not all my ways. i’ve got plenty-o stuff in my socks to sock to ya.”

“Well, with jokes like that, yeah, I’ll knee-d longer than an eternity to get them all.” You and Sans share a laugh into the quiet environment. When the chuckles settle down, the two of you look at each other… and the smallest, yet most important little thing happens.

Both of your faces warm up on their own. No jokes, no surprise outfits, no ‘flirts’; nothing but a long gaze at each other is enough to stir you and him up. For Sans in particular, it’s a feeling he’s got no clue how to handle, but now’s not gonna be when he tries to figure that out.

“Thanks for your company tonight. It really meant something special.”

“it was nothing.” His glance at his hands make it clear it definitely wasn’t nothing.

“just always bein’ me. didn’t know that was enough to flip the strawberry switch.”

“It is, ap-pparently.”

“i was just ribbin’ with ya earlier ‘bout the grub, thanks a bunch for treating me to it. glad i got to find something new with ya, and it’s one less meal on the pub tab. next time i go, you’re gonna have to be my chaperone to make sure i finally pay that off.”

“It’s a risk, you might push me to start a tab of my own.”

“yikes. grillby would have two guests to keep serious tabs on, then.” Without having to check his watch, Sans can tell it’s getting pretty late. No matter how nice this moment is, Papyrus’ story can’t get the short end of the stick.

“welp, it’s probably time to go. gotta do all my brotherly stuff for the night. don’t mean to leave ya hanging… um…” He seems lost for thought.

“You alright, Sans?”

“y-yeah, i just, erm… wasn’t sure what to call us.”

Us. You and Sans might still be just on the cusp of admitting any lovie-dovies, but hearing him use ‘us’ has such a sweet aftertaste to it. Watching the hand that’s now covering his mouth makes you come up with an idea.

“Bone buddies?” He snaps out of his train of thought and looks back up at you.

“bone buddies. perfect. i’m the bone buddy that drags you around to make ‘dogs and listen to my way of words.”

“And I’m the bone buddy that runs into a town of snow with no jacket on, and makes you listen to my work stories.”

“the perfect pair.” Reaching you arms out, you silently invite him to a good-night hug, which he accepts without a moment of thought. The fabric of his jacket brushes up with your exposed hand, much like how the joints in Sans’ fingers are getting little bits of your sweater in them. It’s no biggie, since he knows it’ll come out with a bit of hand washing, and it’ll be a little reminder of you for the trip home, anyway.

While you’re hugging, though, Sans does the most adorable little movement out of instinct; he rolls his forehead around your chin. It may be a skeleton’s way of warming up to the one they’re close to, so for each of the few seconds it lasts, you’re able to take in a sense of comfort that only magic can seemingly provide. Not wanting to leave him out, you roll your chin with him, and you’re now standing together in the most absolutely friend-only motion there is. The ticklish feeling that it’s leaving across the bottom of your face must be some sort of tingle monsters can give off in a close moment like this, and you’re certain it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. Lowering your head, you press your forehead up to his to bring the feeling out even stronger, and the two of you are now gently rolling them across each other. It’s like the heat from Hotland’s cast right over your heart, and it takes everything you can to not give your totally-just-a-friend a smooch on his cheekbone.

“You’re making it really hard to want to let go.”

“won’t make ya. see ya around, straight-breaker.” Pulling your head off of Sans’ skull, you can see that his eyes have shut. He lets out a deep breath, and in a flash of blue light, he’s gone. Maybe a walk back would’ve taken too long before Papyrus’ story. The rubs from his chin-rubbing have left a couple wrinkles on your sweater, but you’re definitely not about to fix them. Taking a deep breath of your own, you begin your way back to the apartment, and the jubilant feelings from the date make the road feel like clouds.

Sans is not only completely comfortable with a date setting with you, but has the rainbow form of attraction as well. It’s almost too happy of a thought for you to finish the sentence in your head. That wonderful skeleton has yet another thing in common with you, and for something like this, it means you completely know each other’s perspectives, since they’re exactly the same. He likes dudes, you like dudes. He loves your company, you love his company. He thinks fish eggs are underrated, you think fish eggs are underrated. It’s all exactly as you’d hoped it’d be, and then some.

The crowds in the roads aren’t collarbone to collarbone this time, so it’s a lot easier to navigate your way back, and allows your skeletal daydreams to keep moving forward. It’s not a question of if you’re going to confess to Sans, but when. These jitters that not only your heart, but your entire being seem to get when around his dorky presence have to be what love feels like, and with everything he’s shown and told you, it has to be how he’s feeling, too. It wouldn’t change the friendliness you and him share with each other, of course, but asking if he wants to take things to that sort of stage could bring you even closer, help ease away any remaining pressures his head could be having from his prior worries, and set up the brightest future ahead.

While opening the apartment building doors and striding to the elevator with the largest grin on your face, you find your head thanking Brenda for the talk she gave earlier today. Had she not stirred up your confidence and helped put the evening into more perspective, there’s a good chance you would’ve been too nervous to take it all in. Her kind words and hopefulness for you still feel contagious, as you hit the button to take you up to your floor.

What really surprised you during that talk was her age. It had been millions and millions of years since dinosaurs had gone extinct on the surface, but you hadn’t thought of a specific dinosaur living as long as she has. It really is some food for thought, and could serve as dessert to that meal, you think, while the elevator doors open and you turn right to make your way down the hall.

232 years… wow. While it still wasn’t long enough for her to have been born on the surface, you can’t help but think of just how much has happened over that time. Generations have come and gone, global civilization’s reached growth like never before, so many changes have happened to society, and she’s lived through all of them. It’s something you’d have to stand back and tip your hat to, if you had one on. Geez… 232 years… it keeps baffling you as you approach your apartment’s door at the end of the hall.

_I had no idea a monster could live such a long time_, you think to yourself, as you stick the key in the doorknob and place your hand around it.

_I had no idea a monster could live such a long time…_

**Wait.**

A cold, flooding sense of dread overtakes your body as you slowly open the door.

In the months you’d known Sans, you’d never asked him how old he is. It hadn’t crossed your mind, with how many new parts of Underground civilization you were getting used to, and he probably would’ve thrown a joke at you about rattly bones not mattering. Just how old he is isn’t what’s filling you with oozing panic, though; judging him for his age is one of the absolute last things you would do. That number doesn’t concern you at all.

His lifespan, on the other hand…

If Brenda can live to 232 years of age and still be going strong, it’s clear that at least some monsters can live far longer than humans can. When the Underground was their only home, it must have never been a concern, since it’s something they all would have known. No matter how much you admire them, though, you’re not a monster yourself. If you’ve fallen for Sans, and want to spend your whole life with him, what happens when you keep getting older? If his lifespan has its own plan, what would it be like when the years go on, and…?

Your body can’t stand under the pressure. You take a few steps, your knees collapse, and you sharply slump back onto your bed, with every ounce of joy from the date replaced with terror.

**Oh, no.**


	22. None of the Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adorable company, wonderful food, plenty of laughs, and excitement for the future. All the parts of the date sound like things you'd be able to happily look back at, but that one realization about how a monster's lifespan works has put that down a bitter spiral. While you thought you'd come out of tonight with more certainty over things with Sans, all you can do is keep wondering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that your name goes wherever ‘Protag’ is!

**Chapter 22 – None of the Above**

The night of sleep is painfully uncomfortable. After the spiral of emotions your realization put you in, trying to do anything but sleep doesn’t seem smart, so you get to bed as soon as you can. You’d just had possibly the most fulfilling and crush-filled night of your life, and as soon as you get home, you don’t have a minute to enjoy that. Doing your best to shut your mind up, you try to keep it as blank as possible in order to drift off. If there was a way you’d imagined tonight ending, this certainly wasn’t it.

What luck. You’ve spent all this time gushing more and more for Sans, and it’s only when you’ve hooked yourself in deep that you realize the consequences that a life together would have. Even if you’re at the same point on the age curve right now, in the grand scheme of things, you could hit the end before he’s even changed a beat. Entering panic mode right after your date wasn’t what you’d prefer to do tonight, so you wish for the thought to push its way out of your head for now, but it’s easier said than done. Rest ultimately only comes in pieces.

It’s not until morning that you realize you’d been trying to sleep the whole night with the outfit you wore to dinner. Taking it off wouldn’t have solved any of the big picture, but it certainly would’ve make things a little more comfortable. Taking the date jeans off to put work pants on instead, you have a rather mundane breakfast and walk to work. You’d thought this walk was going to be one of the lightest and most giddy you’ve ever had, but given everything that’s come to mind, that’s nowhere near happening. Brenda’s not in today, so you’re not able to fill her in on how it went, but it’s possibly for the best, so she doesn’t think it was worse than it actually turned out to be. At least your nose doesn’t feel like it’s destroying you this time.

When you get back to the apartment after the shift, Sans sends some texts thanking you for the date and some jokes about the sushi you both got, but you can’t enjoy reading them without feeling a bit like you’re getting jabbed with a fork while doing the same to him. You only use that analogy for a moment, though, before remembering that you’d never dare eat sushi with a fork, and that gives you the first natural smile you’ve had all day. The texts go well enough, and you treat yourself to some cinnamon buns for a dessert-dinner thing, but the sweetness isn’t enough for your mind to focus on the sweetness the date had. Trying your best to think of the present, and not the future, the memories of watching Sans’ jacket as he walked in and out of the elevator yesterday lull you into enough of a sense of sleep for the night.

The next day is more of the same. No comedy show afterwards to look forward to, no happy jitters in your stomach from the date, and no Brenda. It’s so routine that you don’t even notice your watch going off when the time for your shift ends, and you work another fifteen minutes before another manager comes by and says you’re not in for overtime today. Feeling a bit foolish, you apologize and punch out, marking down that you worked longer than you should be paid for. With today’s work done, the weekend’s next in order, so you’ve got time ahead to rest your head and to try your best to not get too ahead of yourself with things. You haven’t even told Sans yet about how strongly you feel for his dorkiness, so nothing’s been set for you to pull back on… aside from the date, which you can’t help but want more and more of. After an evening of pondering, you decide you’ll call Sans tomorrow, for some friend to friend chat. As far as you know, there could be a big new development in the grill industry to discuss. You’re sure he’d grill you with jokes about them, so that puts enough of a grin on your face for you to fall asleep without your mind keeping you from it.

* * *

“protag. hey, protag. ready for dinner?”

Sans is standing by the kitchen of his house. He’s wearing an apron over his hoodie, which isn’t something you can ever recall having seen before. It’s not the only thing around you don’t recognize, though. Each corner of the room seems to be home to some sort of medical equipment, with IVs, crutches, and a wheelchair that sits where Rocko’s supposed to. Something isn’t right.

“protag, ya gotta give me some sign of whether or not yer ready to eat. after all that went into this applesauce, i feel just about ready to be a skull and crossbones, so i’ve gotta know if you want it now.” Sans made a full meal on his own for you, without his brother around? If that wasn’t bizarre enough, the fact he chose applesauce as a full meal is just about the last dish you’d expect, unless Underground applesauce goes above and beyond. Either way, though, if he took the time and effort to make this for you, getting up to have it seems like the obvious choice, so you tell him that.

“Yyyyyyyyyeeeeeesssssss.”

“alrighty, broski. i’ll be over there in a sec.”

Why was _that_ what came out? All you’d been trying to say was a simple “Yes, please”, and this groaning voice came out instead. Before entering panic mode, you take a moment to think about it, and figure something could simply be caught up in your throat. It seems like the most logical idea, so you try raising your left hand up to it to feel around. For some reason, it feels like a giant bag of flour was strapped to your arm, because there’s lots of restraint against it moving up, but it eventually gets there. Your fingers meet the skin of your neck… and find a sagging set of wrinkles instead.

Your brain immediately puts together what this all means. A look down at the rest of the body’s all you need now to be sure, and as much as you don’t want to, it can’t be stopped. Turning your head down, with a loud creak bellowing out from the back of your neck, the horrible truth lays in front of you… because it **is** you.

You’ve become a wrinkled, disabled, helpless old man, who apparently can’t eat anything firmer than applesauce. That realization’s enough for you to put together that most of your teeth are missing, so putting a sentence together isn’t going to happen anytime soon. Your outfit’s one of the oldest and most ragged you’ve ever laid eyes on, likely from all the work you’re not doing in a state like this. As you frantically look around the room again, with all of the health equipment, you can’t help but wonder why Sans is living around this. Why would anyone want to live a life surrounded by all of this agony?

A look at your left hand explains it completely, without a single word. There’s a golden wedding band sitting on your ring finger, and while it’s gotten mostly dull, there’s still an itch of shine on it. You’re married, and what should be a happy thing to see is a horrifying one. The reason Sans is living like this is because you’re his husband, and he must’ve seen it fit to keep taking care of you. Of all the people you’ve met, he’s the last one that would want to live under an imposed routine, and that’s exactly what you’ve put him into. Not only is his way of life as different from what he’d want as possible, but the pet rock must’ve been let free to make room for the equipment, and you can’t find any sign that Papyrus still lives here.

Panicking, you spontaneously decide to try to break out of this. You lift your hips off of the couch and try to let out a scream, but neither of these land. The only thing that does land is yourself, as you come hurtling down towards the ground, chest-first. Even with the wheelchair around, you thought you could at least make some steps on your own, but that’s long gone now. Your attempt at a scream comes out as a hollow breath, as you hit the floor with a resounding thud. Sans must’ve heard this, as the abrupt sound of a dropped pan and running feet make you figure he’s on his way. You’d look up to make eye contact and reassure him you’ll be alright, but you don’t have the strength to lift your head up.

“protag! what’re you doing? thought you knew after last time you can’t get yourself up on your own…” He reaches both of his arms over you to gently roll you up, trying his best to not hurt anything more than it’s already been in the process. It feels excruciatingly stiff, but he manages to do it, and you’re now looking him square in the eye with a dazed expression on your saggy, impure face. Despite how far behind everything else is, the one thing that hasn’t gone is your vision, so you have a clear view of what’s changed on Sans’ face. He doesn’t look any older than you’d remembered him, but there’s gaping dark bags under his eyes, like the ones he had during his nightmares. The grin you’d just about always seen in one form or another is completely gone, now with a look of distress and confusion. It’s oddly locked in place, as if this is something he’d grown completely used to snapping into.

“i-it’s gonna be alright, just keep showin’ me you’re here, buddy… i’m gonna give these ribs a rub, and you should be good enough for the iv… just say something, so i know you’ll stick with me.” You urge yourself to force out an ‘I’m ok’, but a low moan that trails off comes out instead. It all feels so, so pathetic… your apparent husband only wants a word from you, and you can’t give that. As he unbuttons your shirt to reach your ribcage, you can see the wedding band on his finger, with the same fading gold as your own. Why, oh, why did you ever lock him into something like this?

“oh… p-protag, don’t look at it. i-i’m gonna figure out how to make it better. papyrus, why couldn’t ya be here right now, health’s your turf. i know it’s best you’re out there, chasing your dreams of bein’ the best trainer on the globe, but i really need ya…” Not having any other ideas for what to do first, Sans pulls the apron off and wraps it over the area, revealing a hoodie that’s covered in stains. The pain from the fall’s starting to sink in, and you feel it across your entire abdomen. Keeping your eyes open quickly becomes a tall task, and they start drooping.

“protag, no. not right now. ya gotta be here with me if i’m gonna get ya better. ya know that, right, bucko?” You can’t draw anything out for an answer. The colors are all starting to blend together.

“protag, please. i know you’ve still got it in there, you always do. stay with me, and you’ll be up and havin’ that applesauce before you know it…” None of that gets processed. ‘Rest’ is the only word your brain continues to run through.

“n-no, protag. this can’t be it. we’ve still got way more stories to tell.” It’s too late. It feels like a hand’s taken grip of your essence, and is beginning to pull it into an abyss.

“no, no, protag, no…” Sans’ expression is cracking rapidly, and there’s a jolt in your gut that wants to call out to him, but it’s all out of your control. The hand pulls you farther away, and him and his voice feel more distant by the second.

“protag… no, no, no, no, no!”

* * *

“NOOOOOOO!!”

Your head flings itself up from the pillow, as your reality returns to your room. Clutching your sheets and breathing heavier than after an endurance test in your old physical education class, the furniture and colors gradually take their normal shapes, and begin to feel like the room you’re used to. Closing your eyes and doing your best to keep your breath steady, when you open them again and see your room in complete clarity, you’re convinced that whatever… _that_ was… was a figment of your mind. You’d been asleep the whole time.

Once the sharp breathing goes away, though, you’re left in a state of emptiness, trying to put together exactly what you’d just experienced. The nightmare department in your brain apparently wanted a showcase tonight, and that was its way of going about it. Of all the topics it could’ve covered, though, it happened to be the one that you’d spent the bulk of your past two days worrying over. For that, you realize you have yourself to blame a bit for refusing think about anything else, but at the same time, that shouldn’t be something you’re kicking yourself for at all. He’s a friend you care for very, very much, and thinking about his happiness near you shows the bond you’ve gotten.

The more you think about it, though, the more you know you’re denying the truth. You love Sans a way you’ve never loved someone before. Everything he does and says seems to have a pipeline straight to your heart, with ‘genuine’ being the word inscribed on it. There’s never been a human or monster you’ve enjoyed company with more, with the complete lack of pressure, taking things by the minute, and openness to be your complete self you feel around him. The thought of living your life with him is one that makes you gush inside and out, but the aging process grinds that to a terrifying halt.

Humans don’t live the same length of time as monsters do. It’s plain and simple. If you and Sans decided to live your lives together, you’d have a good thirty years or so before the difference could be too much to ignore. You’d get greyer and greyer, and his lifestyle would have to change entirely from what he wants. Sans is the last person you could think of to live each day by a stringent schedule, and the demands than an elderly form of yourself would have would suffocate him in that. Papyrus would have no reason to stay, with his own ambitions he’d get, so he wouldn’t even have his brother to offer him his unmatched encouragement. How you feel about Sans can’t be ignored, and if you follow the path your heart’s yearning for, only strife and pain could follow…

No! You _can’t_ believe it! You_ refuse _to believe it! Every ounce of your being adores the kind of person Sans is, and if how he’s been reacting around you as of late implies anything, there’s definitely a chance he could be the same way. Are you really about to give something like love up because of fear? If that happened, you’d be letting it win without even putting up a fight. What the Underground’s maybe taught you more of than anything else is that universal love tops all. That emotion alone is what broke the barrier that kept them stuck here, is it not?

You cannot and simply will not let yourself live with this pulling your brain in each direction. Whether or not there’s an answer to solve this dilemma of yours and his, you can’t go by without saying you didn’t try. Giving this up would be nothing short of a slap to the grin that you can’t stop thinking of. You’re going to do everything you can to give your brain clarity, and that starts…

Tomorrow. This new rush of confidence is certainly important, but you’re still feeling some of the physical wear from that nightmare. The important thing to do right now is to try to get some form of reasonable sleep for the morning, and you can make a plan from there. Papyrus’ ability to go a good 72 hours without a lick of sleep is impressive, but not something to test out for yourself right about now. Easing your head back onto the pillow and pulling your sheets back above yourself, you try to hold off as much of the tension in your muscles as you can, while thinking about the skeletons that don’t have any at all.

To your later relief, it doesn’t take long to drift back off to sleep, and the rest of the night is dreamless. Since it was the end of your work week last evening, you’d never set an alarm, which allows you to sleep as long as you need to catch up with the patch you missed. By the time you start stirring, it’s eleven in the morning, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the underground not being exposed to sunlight. This wouldn’t have been the kind of morning for that to wake you up.

Rolling out of bed and reaching the freezer, you’re able to get an Astronaut Burrito on a plate and set it in the microwave before thoughts of last night return. While the burrito heats up, and makes popping noises like a rocket in doing so, you feel a weird push to look in the mirror, to make sure that nightmare isn’t somehow reality… yet.

You have to stop yourself again. If you’re going to stay sane, living with a bunch of ‘yets’ isn’t going to work. That nightmare won’t happen, because you won’t let it happen, simple as that. A glance in the mirror shows that you’re just the same as always, aside from it being a little darker under your eyes from the unexpected sleep changes. It reminds you that some coffee would surely help out, so you get the grinds in the maker and watch it pour, as the burrito finishes cooking. You’re a little tempted to try a bunch of extra scoops of sugar, like Sans usually would, but that’d feel too much like stealing.

A few minutes pass, and the coffee finishes. Pouring it in a mug with a big bone on it that Papyrus had mailed as a get better soon gift, you carry it and the burrito plate over to the little table for breakfast, which feels like the quietest meal you’ve had in months. It’s too late for the morning rush outside, but too early for lunch, and after what your mind went through last night, there’s an odd soothing feeling to the silence.

The burrito’s a pretty good one, with just the right amount of cheese laid in it, and the coffee doesn’t have that bitter of an aftertaste, but you try to not let your mind drift too far into food. If you’re going to tackle how to fix the longevity of your time spent with Sans, it’s clear that the answers won’t fall into your head. You’re going to have to find someone, or somewhere, that has the resources to put this puzzle together, and with that thought in mind, the New Home Library is a glaringly obvious choice. Between its grand size and supposed huge set of resources, you’d been meaning to give it a look at some point, but never got to it. Now that this is at the point it’s hit, though, putting it off can’t wait any longer.

Nothing else comes to mind that’d be better; the Undernet isn’t gonna hold content for something as specific as this, and if questions surrounding love were that easy to figure out, you wouldn’t have gotten this worried to begin with. Taking the last bite of the burrito and finishing off the coffee, you bring them over to the sink and wash them up before heading straight to the bathroom to get your teeth and hair brushed. There’s no point in waiting if there’s nothing else going on, so you may as well use all the time you can. Once you’re all cleaned up and have some non-sleepwear on, you leave the apartment and are down on the streets a couple minutes later. With no throngs to get through, like for dinner a few weeks ago, it’s a lot easier to see where you’re going. Walking around the city makes your mind go back to just how wonderful that dinner had been, so the mix of fond memories of that and new nerves make you not realize how close you’ve gotten to the library until you’re soon abruptly standing by its front doors.

New Home’s library certainly isn’t your typical mom and pop Librarby, like the one you’d seen in Snowdin; you could likely fit at least fifty of that one in this building’s grand size. The enormous facility is made of a cold, yet sophisticated alignment of dark grey brick, almost built in a Victorian-esque style. Long and thin stain-glassed windows are adorned along the walls, adding to the impression that this a serious place of learning. With all of the generations of monsters that’ve passed in and out of this place, there has to be some answers to all of this in there to find.

Approaching the intimidating welded doors, you push one open, making it ring out a drawn-out booming sound. This place sure lets you know right away it means all business. As you step inside, you’re immediately treated to a view of just how much this library possesses. There are lines of shelves throughout the entire interior, some of which stretch so high up that you’d need to make a long ladder climb to reach. To make up for the lack of sunlight to come through the windows, golden chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting bright light over the abundance of literature. It seems like just about any personal, class or work project could meet its answers here, so you hope something as obscure as your conflict can reach what it needs, too.

There’s a long help-desk to the left of the doors, where monsters can be heard discussing where to find recipes, human history involving giant swords(?), and architectural handbooks. With topics as diverse as those, yours can’t come off as all that extreme, so you approach an empty spot at the desk. A rabbit monster’s sitting on the other side, and the little jitters in her hands makes it look like she’s desperately waiting for the moment she has to look up a location.

“Greetings, I was wondering where I could find books involving monsters, and the science of… erm…” You should’ve thought to plan this a little better.

“…love. Um, the good love, I mean.” To make up for the awkwardness, you give a little smile, but the rabbit’s expression doesn’t change much, as she’s already typing away at the keyboard on her desk. You probably could’ve said it the most bonkers way you could think of, and she’d still be looking for it the same way, but now’s not the time to press your luck.

“Third aisle to the left, left side, about halfway’s distance to the back wall. High enough for you to just reach, if you stand on your toes.”

“Thanks a bunch, I appreciate-” She’s already moved on to the next person. With how many questions she presumably has to go through a day, you can’t blame her. Turning back towards the shelves, you make your way to the large, gaping room in the center of the building, where all of the books are held. You’re relieved that what you’re looking for is at reachable height, or you’d need someone to get it for you, and with how busy both the workers and guests are, that wasn’t a commotion you wanted to make. The third aisle has a small engraved steel sign in front of it that reads ‘Magic and Souls’, so it seems like she gave you the best spot for what you’re looking for.

Approaching the section the rabbit told you to go to, there’s several long lines of books that all have the word ‘souls’ in the title, so it’s a strong start. By living in the Underground, you’d grown to have a greater understanding of how important the soul is than a human typically would. Despite monsters and humans living together now, there’s still plenty that only see souls as bogus, so that’s their loss to have. Glancing over the selections, you find a book entitled ‘What Drives our Souls to Date’, and while it looks far too old to have been written after the Barrier was broken, it seems like a prime candidate. Grabbing a huge stack of books at the same time would feel too intimidating to start with, so you only pull out the first one, with a bit of dust following it. It’s not hard to understand why monsters would know a lot more about this than you would, so that’s why this copy seems so untouched. Gently carrying it with both hands, you leave the aisle and find a small, wooden table rested by one of the stone walls, and sit down on a wobbly old chair.

“Alright, book, let’s see if you’ve got what I’m looking for…” You open up the front cover, letting out another small cloud of dust that probably would’ve gone down your throat, if you hadn’t thought to cover your mouth this time. There’s no table of contents, so it’ll be up to you to fish around it and figure out what best covers what you’re looking for. It’s written in a chapter by chapter basis, so it’s not exactly a research book, but the bits that you skim through at first talk about the impulses a monster heart gets when it gets love jitters, which is a good sign. The drawings of a monster soul glowing more than usual make your mind briefly drift off to whether or not this happens to Sans when you’re around, but you catch yourself before you can wind up in a Sans state of mind the rest of the afternoon.

Unfortunately, that bit seems to be the peak of what the book provides. All of the scenarios it covers involving souls reacting to each other are between a monster and a monster, without any humans in the picture. Once you’d gotten an idea of what this book’s about, you can’t say you were expecting much else, with the apparent age of it, but it’s still a bummer that this isn’t something you can easily pull from a shelf and figure out first thing. By the time you’ve dismissed the book as not having what you need, three hours have passed, and you figure you only have enough time to look at one more before you get too hungry to keep going.

Looking through the bookshelf again, you notice one titled ‘Our Souls’ Responses to a Variety of Events’. Judging by the stringent font choice on the spine and the large graph that’s been drawn over the cover, this one’s more report-based than the last book. Carrying it back to the desk, you flip through the first few pages, and are immediately proven right about this being a collection of research. There’s lots of sketches over just how far a soul reacts to certain surroundings, whether it be fear, hunger, physical endurance, or grief. With this being the Underground, love actually has the longest section, so you eagerly begin reading it to see what could be found.

This one, though, happens to have just as little as the last one. Lots of graphs demonstrates the power love of a certain activity or ambition has on a soul, and while that certainly isn’t unimportant, it’s nowhere near what you need. The information that does cover relation with other souls, once again, has nothing about what interaction with a human causes. You’re starting to wonder if the rabbit at the desk misled you with where you should be studying; there’s a chance she could’ve said the wrong location, given how busy she was, but if she wasn’t as keen on humans as monsters typically are, maybe this was her way of pulling your leg. If it was earlier in the day, you’d peek around more to see if there’s a group of books closer to what you’re looking for nearby, but the clock’s nearly hit seven. Sans wouldn’t want you starving yourself over this, and an empty stomach isn’t going to take information in all that great. Letting out a sigh and returning the book to its shelf, you make your way home.

You’re too hungry and don’t have the creative spirit right now to put together a more detailed meal, so dinner ends up being a simple cup of noodles. When you pull the cup out of the cabinet, it reminds you of how much eating this one night a few months ago would’ve changed things. You were so close to having a noodle cup and unwinding that fateful August evening, but you’d chosen not to, and it’s what led you to the dinner at the hotel where you met Sans and Papyrus.

Until this week, that’s something you could smile about, but now you’ve been left hoping that choice isn’t going to become the bane of someone’s existence.

The morning routine on Sunday’s dealt with as quickly as possible, to give yourself all the research time you can. A shower, outfit change, a bowl of ICE-E’s Cereal (FRIGID FUN FOR ALL AGES!!!), and a brisk walk bring you back to the library, seemingly as soon as you left it. Since it’s still the weekend, the circulating crowd coming in and out seems about the same as yesterday, as you swing the elegant door open for the second time. At the help desk, the same rabbit’s at work, but she’s got too much of a line for you to ask again. Come to think of it, her line’s far longer than anyone else’s at the desk, so she must have some sort of reputation of giving the right directions. If that’s the case, she’s yet to prove that to you, but you’re not planning to conclude that so soon.

Stepping back into the aisle, you figure it’s best to take several books in one go now, so no time’s being spent on searching that could be used to go through more. There’s a second volume to the report book that was separated from the first one, so you figure it could be worth a look, and take it. Right next to it, there’s a book on the magical composition of monster anatomy. In a library this large, you’re not sure how that could all be condensed into one book, but there could be some use in it for seeing how Sans’ body responds to things, in case the solution involves you having to act a certain way for your bodies to each make the best… bond to each other? You’re not really sure what direction you’re looking for in all this, but anything you can find to help make things as strong with him as possible will do. A third book that catches your eye is a junior graphic novel, entitled ‘Sammy’s Quest for the Golden-Soul Sage.’ It doesn’t look like it has to do with an ounce of what you’re looking for, but could lighten the mental load a bit.

Setting the books down on the table makes it do a loud thump. Naturally, that makes your head go on a swivel, expecting a bunch of angry onlookers from what a surface library would typically do, but no one’s focus from their books shifts. There could be some sort of rule saying the second interruption’s when you can release your wrath, but now’s not the day you’re planning to test that out.

The little stack you’ve made out of the three books is more intimidating than you’d thought it’d be. One of them may be a graphic novel, so there’s not complete pressure over the content, but seeing all of this paper without a concrete idea if you’re doing the right work isn’t the best feeling. Rather than diving into the first book, you rest your chin on a closed fist and ponder for a moment if you’re going about this whole thing the right way, before feeling a vibration in your pocket. Surely enough, it’s from the same skeleton you’ve been spending all this time this weekend for.

**“heya, protag. don’t you love this weather today?” **Research can wait for you to have a text exchange first.

**“Sans, it’s always the same down here.”**

**“exactly. wanted to be the last person to ever ask you that.”**

**“Well, that crown’s yours now.”**

**“perfect. another totally real trophy for the wall. i better have it in my mailbox by friday.”**

**“I’ll see what I can do. Weekend treating you well?”**

**“yup. that jacket’s blowing ‘round the tornado again, in case a glowing human’s gonna be a decoration my brother needs in a few weeks.” **It’s clear that he’s not letting how flustered you got go anytime soon. There’s no way you’re going to take that without a fight.

**“Well, when the skeleton wearing it’s bad to the bone, of course it’s gonna set me off.” **It takes about two minutes for him to get back, so you figure your little plan worked.

**“geez. after that one, i’m gonna be nothin’ but dog bones for the pooches to carry around. hope you’ve got enough to pay for skelinsurance.”**

**“If your brother comes by and gets any final touches for his party preparation, I should have just enough G for that.”**

**“he’s bein’ a real star right now, with how much he’s put together. shouldn’t spoil it, though, you’d probably rather hear it from his jaw sometime.”**

**“Sounds good to me, I’d like hearing from him how it’s all been turning out.”**

**“thanks. he’s been a real set of busybones, so lettin’ a friend know how its going could put a big smile on his skull.”**

That little talk was just what you needed to dive back into your research. Whether or not you’ve got a burning crush for him, Sans is still your friend, first and foremost, and hearing that you’d like to hear from Papyrus about how his progress’s going seemed to make him happy. No matter where your bond with him goes, your friendship deserves for this to be put to rest, so you can have the most refreshing time together possible. Feeling a kick of rejuvenation, you open up the report book, ready to flood yourself with all the numbers and theories you could need.

There’s sections about bodily reactions to things during childhood, food shaping the magic in the body, which makes sense, given how much some monsters pride themselves in it, and fifty pages that’re devoted to reactions to dogs. It amuses you that the Underground’s been home to some of the same kinds of dogs as the surface, and you admittedly get distracted by all the pictures for a little while, before leashing yourself back in. Towards the back of the book, concepts of love are dived into again, which gives you hope that pulling this one out was the right call.

Your excitement earlier and now proves to not be for much, though. Not a single point the section makes discusses humans, no matter how hard you dig through graphs and read fine print. Discovering that there’s fine print makes you wonder how a larger monster’s vision works, if they’re able to read this book that fits normally in your hands, but that’s worth its own study that you don’t have the time for. The monster that put this book together surely gave it plenty of attention to detail, but it’s not what you needed. Feeling a bit of a blow for all of the time you spent on this one being for nothing again, you slide it to the other corner of the desk and pull the next one over.

Jumping into another serious book after the last one doesn’t feel like the best idea for your noggin, so you decide to splurge the graphic novel instead. It’s about a monster soul with arms and legs named Sammy that’s trying to find a sage that can give him the knowledge to defeat the dreaded Nasties. The Nasties are physical compositions of hatred and ignorance, concepts that are foreign to monsterkind. Sammy’s adventure represents the courage to fend off such traits from entering society, and the more you read into this, the more you realize you’re going to get lost in lore for the rest of the day if you don’t use the brakes a bit. After giving it a read with a more eased mindset, it seems like a perfectly suitable story to inspire kids. It makes you hope the human and monster kids on the surface are being raised to treat each other the same; fundamentally, there really isn’t much different between them.

Your last pitch today’s for the anatomy book, but as fascinating as it is, it gets you nowhere. There aren’t any skeletons in it, so you aren’t given much of a look as to how Sans and Papyrus’ bones work, but you learn a lot about how the identity of the parents carries over to their children when they’re born. Hunger creeps back by the time you finish going through it, so while you might’ve not come closer to any answers, Sans would be happy your cranium got a little stronger. As you put the backs back and make your way out of the library, you notice that Aaron guy from the magazine covers in the line with the rabbit at the help desk. That combination can’t go the best.

“So, what’re you looking for this evening?”

“Oh, just a book on proper hydration ; )”

“…I see. Hydration’s on the fourth aisle to the right, second to top shelf towards the back. They all have water bottles strapped to them. You might want to go to the ladder department to get it.”

“You don’t think I can reach that high? ; )”

“It’s not my job to decide that.”

“Come on, watch me and I’ll show you ; )”

“Absolutely not. If you ask a second time, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Darn. You almost had free admission to the show ; )”

She looks at him with possibly the sharpest gaze you’ve ever seen.

“…Okay, okay, I’ll go read ; )”

It takes until now to realize that you’ve been blankly standing near the doors and watching this for a whole minute. Aaron’s… features are admittedly a little hard to ignore. Remembering Sans’ hoodie, though, and how you’d take that first any day, you shake your head and leave into the evening air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I split it into two parts instead. The next part will be uploaded on Saturday! I've also decided to change my username to ComicalFont, so if you're a subscriber and see that name in your emails, that's why.


	23. All of the Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the nightmare, you've decided you refuse to wonder in worry forever about what your bond with Sans is going to end up like. Committing to the library, you're doing your best to find answers regarding how a human and monster coming together feels and plays out, but there's been nothing but the wrong info and Aaron-related distractions. Horse muscles aside, you'll still keep giving it your best.

**Chapter 23 – All of the Above**

Each day over the next couple of weeks follows the same fruitless routine. Since you’ve got work on the weekdays, your research time’s limited to the couple of hours after your shift ends before dinner calls. You search in either the recommended shelf or some nearby ones, find a book that looks like it could be promising for explaining how human connections work, and ultimately not get anything. Sans’ texts about things as diverse as sprinkles, sardines, and saxitoxin keep you moving, between both the laughs he makes out of them and the thought of those cute hands of his texting away… ahem… but it also makes it harder to come up short.

By the time it’s two weeks before New Year’s, this routine’s started to wear on your gut fairly hard. You’re doing your research to help Sans, but it means not spending time with him, which is its own challenge. Beggars can’t be choosers, so if investing some time in the future means less right now, you’ll stick with it, but it’s still not something you’ll smile about. It’s not long before it’s another Sunday night, with a growingly busy week of work looming ahead, as party prep’s becoming more and more common. Something comes back to your mind, though, during your noodle-twiddling with your fork.

Before that horrible dream happened, you’d been meaning to have a long call with Sans to reflect on the dinner together. It must’ve been forgotten about in the swing of things. You’re not mad at yourself for it, since it probably would’ve been a little too jittery for either you or Sans to enjoy the time, but it’s been too long holding it off now. Hearing what he’s had going on is something important to you, so he knows you continue to care, and Papyrus has likely made even more planning progress since your research started. Rushing through the rest of your noodles and managing to not choke on any, you rapidly dial through Sans’ number and pull your phone up to your ear. You realize after dialing that you hadn’t thought of if he’s having dinner right now or not, but with how strong the urge is, you don’t think you could’ve waited any longer. There’s four rings on the other end, and you’re starting to wonder if the timing’s not gonna work, but the fifth one cuts itself off as soon as it starts.

_Bwoooooooooomp_.

Seems like the skeleton on the other end knew exactly who was calling, too.

“Great solo.” On the other side, you can hear Sans’ phone being picked back up.

“thanks. practiced it just for you.”

“What a pleasure. Really sorry it’s been this long, should’ve called sooner after our little adventure together.”

“it’s no biggie. absence makes the heart go fondue.”

“Sans, I just had dinner, don’t make me wanna go for round two already.”

“fine, fine, i won’t be such a peanut about it. sounds like work hasn’t killed you, was wondering if those crowds had made ya drop yet.”

“No, I’ve been able to hold on. The work’s a lot, but it’s sure nice to see people getting excited over a holiday again.”

“if you thought halloween was big, new years doesn’t just take the cake. it steals everyone else’s and runs off with it.”

“Wow, cake thievery? Gotta be a big deal for something like that.”

“you bet. gotta strap that last year to a big’ ol firework. no room for the new one if that thing’s still around.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Even if you’d wanted to say more, you weren’t about to, because you can hear knocking coming from Sans’ side of the line.

“SANS! WHY ARE YOU PLAYING INCIDENTIAL MUSIC AT AN HOUR LIKE THIS?? I WASN’T EVEN OUTSIDE OF MY ROOM TO DO ANYTHING!”

“oh, hey, bro. protag called, had to give ‘im what he deserved.”

“OH, IT WAS FOR HIM? ALL IS FORGIVEN, THEN. MIND IF I GIVE HIM A WORD?”

“you can have more than one word. i’m not that cruel.” You can hear a door quickly opening up, and another hand grabbing at the phone.

“GREETINGS, PROTAG!! HAPPY DYING DAYS OF THE CURRENT YEAR!” It’s been too long since you last heard that voice.

“Hey, Papyrus, great to hear from you. Been meaning to ask for a while how organizing the celebration’s coming along.”

“IT’S COMING ALONG PERFECTLY! SINCE WE DON’T HAVE A MAYOR, I HAVE TO GO TO EACH HOUSE AGAIN TO GET THEM TO SIGN OFF ON AN IDEA.”

“That’s something you’re okay with?”

“IT MIGHT SOUND TEDIOUS, BUT I KNOW EVERYONE’S HANDWRITING DOWN TO THE LAST CONFUSING CURVE NOW. THAT WAY, I CAN REPLICATE EACH AND EVERY ONE ONTO THE HATS THEY’LL BE RECEIVING!”

“Aww. That’s the sweetest form of forgery I’ve ever heard.”

“EXACTLY!! WHO SAYS WORDS CAN’T BE MADE HAPPIER SOME DAY? ANYWAYS, I’VE CONVINCED EACH HOUSEHOLD IN TOWN TO CHIP IN A BIT, IN ORDER TO GIVE IT AS MUCH PIZZAZZ AS POSSIBLE. SHARING IS CARING.”

“you were so close to saying pizza. guess we’re not takin’ a road trip to that surface joint, but i get why. our joints would be real sore the whole way back.”

“SANS, DON’T MAKE PROTAG GO LONGING FOR SURFACE FOOD, THERE’S PLENTY OF WONDERFUL PLACES TO BE DOWN HERE. THE TWO OF YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT.”

“yup. that sushi really was something else.”

“BUT THE COMPANY TASTED EVEN BETTER, JUST LIKE YOU SAID.”

“i-i did?”

“YEP! ALMOST LIKE WHEN YOU SAID HE WAS SWEETER THAN THE DRINKS!”

“…”

“…”

“. . .”

“…That was kind, Sans.” With Papyrus around, you’re not sure how far to take it, so you leave it at that. He still presumably has the phone, so you have to half-shout it for him to hear.

“BESIDES, YOU SHOULD KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT PIZZAZZ, SANS. PROTAG SURELY KNOWS ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU LIKE YOUR SPACE THINGS, RIGHT?” It’s feeling more and more like Papyrus has learned to use your bond with his brother to get back at him for all the timely jokes of his.

“don’t think that star shot past my mind yet, actually.”

“THERE YOU GO, THEN! A FRESH NEW TOPIC FOR YOU TWO TO GO INTO WHEN I’M FINISHED!! TEAMWORK REALLY DOES MAKE THE DREAM WORK.”

“Yeah, there’s tons of plan-ets I can make now.”

“HE CONTROLS YOU MORE EACH DAY. I’M NO LONGER SURPRISED BY IT. YOU ALMOST PULLED ME IN FAR ENOUGH TO FORGET ABOUT THE REST OF MY OWN PLANNING.”

“sorry, bro. didn’t mean to shoot a meteor shower on ya.”

“…ANYHOO, WHEN I’M NOT GETTING A GAZILLIONTH PAPER SIGNED, I’VE BEEN CHECKING AROUND THE OTHER TOWNS, AND SEEING WHERE ELSE I CAN PUT SIGNS UP FOR THIS GRAND SPECTACULAR.”

“If you’re looking for more promotion, why not send over some of your flyers my way? I’m sure I could get them put up at the store.”

“THAT’D BE EXCELLENT! NOTHING LIKE SOME CAPITALISM TO GET PEOPLE IN THE PARTY MOOD. HOPEFULLY THERE’LL BE ENOUGH MATERIALS TO GO AROUND FOR EVERYONE, OR ELSE WE COULD ALL BE IN FOR QUITE THE COMPARTYERIE.”

“I’m sure it’ll work out. If there’s more supplies at my store you could need, I can see if I can put an employee discount on them for you.”

“THAT’D BE SPLENDID! A FRIEND THAT RELISHES IN RETAIL IS SOMETHING EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE.”

“Haha, yeah, I’ll be that friend for now, at least. If I land that other job I’m looking for, I dunno if I’ll be able to get you that again.”

“OH, DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT. IF YOU CAN SURVIVE THE UPCOMING NEW YEAR’S ONSLAUGHT AND STILL BE ON THOSE FLESHY FEET, ANYONE COULD HIRE YOU. I’VE KEPT MY BROTHER WAITING LONG ENOUGH, THOUGH.”

“Oh, no, it’s all fine. I was hoping to hear how it’d been going for you, best of luck with the rest.”

“THANK YOU, PROTAG. I’M CONFIDENT THAT IT’LL… NYEH HEH… BLAST EVERYONE AWAY!” You can hear the phone thumping back into Sans’ hand, and an excited ‘Nyeh heh heh’ getting quieter in the distance.

“Always nice hearing from your brother. If anyone could string this show together and deal with all of that paper signing, it’s him.”

“absolutely. ever since we moved back, he’s really taken lead in makin’ sure all the culture’s still here. it’s how we got the tree with the gifts back, once we were sure enough no grinches were gonna steal ‘em.”

“Someone would really have to be a mean one to do that. Don’t think I’m gonna forget to ask about you liking space stuff, though.”

“oh, that. yeah, i’ve, uh… been curious ‘bout stuff like the stars ‘n planets since i was baby bones. big stuff to make up for my lil’ height, i figure.”

“It only means you appreciate the distance between more.” That sounded philosophical in your head, but you’re not sure how it came out in words.

“heheh, i try. once, i got the poor ambassador’s eye coated when i didn’t tele the telescope in waterfall to do the right stuff. think deep down in my calcium, that made me feel a lil’ too bad to show that side off to anyone else.”

“Well, you’ve given me fair warning, so I don’t see any reason why-” An idea suddenly pops up, and it’s too good to not bring it up now. Anxiety over the research can take an off day.

“Say, I just thought of the shortest little trip for us to do tomorrow night. Did you have any plans?”

“nope. something about the stars got ya all gassed up?”

“Exactly. There’s this place near my apartment that rents gear for surface events, and I think they have some telescopes, and if you’d like to go see the stars together with a really good one, we could take turns looking at them.” You spit it out in one, drawn-out breath, unable to hold the excitement in.

“i’d love that, bud. there’s a field i looked at them once at before, so i could give ya the world’s fastest taxi ride. the city’s gonna be so jealous. you ok with bein’ back up at the surface, though? don’t want that bringing back any of the uncomfies.”

“If it’s just some quiet field, I’ll be totally fine. I’d say to bundle up, since December can be pretty cold up there, but I don’t think it’ll make a difference for you.”

“it’ll be my excuse to see if this zipper still works. if the stars blow me away, i can’t let my hoodie become an umbrella and shoot me into orbit.”

“That’d really blast our plans to pieces. I better get to bed, if we’re gonna have all the energy we need for this little journey of ours.”

“alrighty. catch ya later, bud. don’t let the bread bugs bite.”

“Bread bugs?”

“yup. bread bugs. hope ya didn’t eat any sandwiches today.” He hangs up. You hadn’t eaten a sandwich at your lunch break, so you’re not gonna lose any z’s over that tonight, but now that Sans has shared that… advice with you, you’re gonna be thinking a bit harder the next time you have one.

The next day of work blows by, with the thought of being with Sans in the cold December breeze while watching the stars floods you with energy. Your brain needs this break from pouring itself into research; you may love Sans, but right now, you’re absolutely, positively just platonic friends, and this sounds like a great platonic friend thing to do. Your work energy’s closer to its old self than it had ever been since the date, and the fact that Woshua comes by to ask about where to find a nail filer without a moment of hesitation shows that your positivity’s been enough for him to shake off that bad day that happened. This time, you don’t forget to realize the time your shift ends, and have potentially your fastest punch out ever before jolting back home to have some quick dinner, before the surface gear place closes. To you and Sans’ good fortune, the weather around Mt. Ebott is forecasted as a chilly but clear night, which should be perfect for stargazing.

“Let’s see, soy, chicken or shrimp… definitely shrimp.” If Sans manages to smell noodles off your breath, shrimp sounds like the one he could joke around with the best, so you have that. You’re not sure how real the shrimp exactly is, but thinking about your bonefrie- bone buddy, that is, makes it taste like it came from Bhodeck. After that’s finished up, you grab your heaviest jacket and leave the apartment with the dishes uncleaned, making it to the gear store a few minutes before its closing. The Froggit behind the register looks like it was sleeping, until you opened the door, but it’s probably best for it to be awake, anyway, if its boss is around. Glancing through the store, you find the best rated telescope available, which comes in a gold decal. With not much time to spare before closing, you grab it and rush over to the check out.

“Hello, how much would it cost to rent this for one night?”

“600G.”

“Done.” It’s quite the bill for a rental, but for the chance to see his curiosity be met, you’d pay that tenfold. Pulling some high-range G coins out of your pocket, you slide them across the desk and tell the Froggit to keep the bit of change that’s left over for himself.

“Thank you, kind human. Slide the telescope through the flap outside when you’re done with it tonight. Meow.” Your mind’s moving too quickly to process the frog meowing like a cat, as you head your way out of the shop. The telescope and stand are a little heavier than you thought they’d be, so you’re extra cautious when stepping out into the busy road. Finding a quiet alley to step into, you gently set the equipment down and send Sans a text that you’re ready.

**“Waiting by the rental store, whenever you’re set to go.”**

**“i’m all set. sans airlines will be landing shortly.”** It’s only about twenty seconds of being on your own before there’s a blue flash in front of you, with Sans following it.

You love that he never keeps you waiting all that long.

“heya, pro-” He stops and looks in disbelief at the telescope by your feet.

“holy crud. you really got the beefiest one?”

“Why would I get anything else? A skeleton that sends me up to the stars only deserves the best to see the stars with.” That one felt too good for you to pass up. He grabs a bit at his hood, which makes you realize he stuck to his word about zipping his hoodie up.

“glad ya think my eye sockets are worthy. the field we’re gonna go to is perfect for this, and since it’s gonna be cold out, you won’t get ticked by any ticks.”

“That’s good, it’d be a ticking time bomb of frustration otherwise. Ready to get going?”

“yuppers. the taxi’s gotta ask for a hand real quick.” Grabbing the telescope and stand with one arm, you use the other to grab Sans’ hand, and feel a little jitter go down your spine from the touch. You love this skeleton so much that you can’t even kid yourself for it anymore. Fingers wrapped together, he closes his eyes, and everything goes dark for a moment, before you find yourself on the surface for the first time since you’d moved.

It takes a moment to get used to seeing a dark blue hue over your head again, rather than the blackness of the Underground’s ‘sky’. The forecast was right about it being a clear night; not a single annoying cloud is covering the view. Even without the telescope, you can make out an array of stars dotting the giant canvas, each giving a twinkle at a different place. If there’s one thing you know you’ve missed a little from leaving the surface it’s this. Your sentiments are distracted by a cold gust of wind, though, and the biting feeling it leaves may make you rethink that a bit.

“good thing ya brought that jacket. don’t think a frozen solid human would fit through that flap.”

“Yeah, that’d be a rough explanation to give. ‘Hi, sorry for the broken window, my friend had to throw me in here so I could thaw out. Here’s your telescope.’”

“let’s not make this a trip to the courthouse, then. i’ll set it up for ya.” Taking the stand, Sans pushes the legs into the long grass of the field with ease. He then takes the telescope, extends it, and takes a long look around which part of the sky would be best to aim it at. Once he’s figured that out, your bone buddy positions it on the stand with seemingly microscopic movements of his fingers to straighten it out just right.

“Wow, you really know your stuff.”

“when you’ve read the same space book from the dump over, and over, and over, you learn this stuff.”

“Yikes, forgot that that was a problem. Don’t mean to send you down in the dumps with that reminder.”

“’s all good. you didn’t trash any plans.” Sans gives the telescope some final adjustments, and then he slowly backs away. The end that points towards the sky’s a good few feet higher than him, but even with that, the front’s low enough for Sans to reach comfortably, so you’re gonna have to bend your knees a bit to see.

“you first. you slogged that bill out, it’s the least i can do.” He steps back to give you enough room, and you step up to the lens on the front.

Well, when looking through a telescope, you were expecting to see some stars; not ‘I’m a stupid doo-doo butt” written on the other side.

“Really, Sans?”

“yes, really. if you wanna see the stars, you’re gonna have to say that.”

“But I paid for this thing.”

“if ya rented it to make me happy, seeing ya get all stuttered for the night works, too. your call.” Looking at the telescope, you can see that he fastened the lid with that message to the front in a fancy way, and that without his knowledge of how to take it off, you’re not gonna see a single star tonight. He rests an arm on the telescope with the same smug look that he made at dinner a couple weeks ago. Just like then, though, you’re not going to let him win.

“Fine. I’m a stupid doo-doo butt. But I love to doo-doo things with my best friend, too.” The words cut into the crisp air, and cut write into Sans’ look, too. He pretends to stick a hand over where his heart would be, but the theatrics can’t hide the blue that’s crept up on his face.

“bested again.” Having admitted his loss, Sans walks up to the high end of the telescope. He claps his hands three times, and the thing with the message sort of… just falls off on its own. The night’s not long enough for you to question, so you let him win that round.

“alright, for real, now. no fishy business, swear to the calcium.” Letting out a not all that serious sigh, you look through the eye lens… and are immediately grateful you chose the best telescope. You’re given a laser-sharp view of fields of stars and clutters you couldn’t have ever remembered seeing before. Even if you had, though, no textbook or web page could do something like this justice. The sparkles of the stars glitter over the blacks and deep blues that serve as a backdrop, enveloping you so far that a marching band could march behind you, and you probably wouldn’t notice.

“…Sans, you made a habit out of coming here for this? You’ve really found a gift.”

“yeah, once i convinced the telescope place to let a skeleton rent from ‘em. for a place that sold stuff to look at the stars, they really weren’t bein’ stars themselves. good thing monster currency’s made of solid gold. that stuff tends to find a way.”

“If you watch space stuff, you probably know the quote that ‘greed can be a powerful ally’, but it stinks that that’s all they’d listen to.”

“eh, maybe they just don’t like sand, and my name was too close to sand for their comfort.”

“Strong analysis. Here, give it a look yourself.” You step back from the telescope and let Sans peek through, and stepping up, he does so by pressing the entire front lens into his eye socket. It must not hurt, if he’s able to do so that casually, but it’s still definitely something different to see. You can see the smile on his face widen up, and the pupil in his other eye socket brighten up, as he peers through to see what you saw. The clear excitement on his face proves just how much this means to him. It’s a side you hadn’t seen before, but one you’d make sure you don’t forget.

“heh, really is somethin’ else, ain’t it?”

“You can say that again, it’s beautiful.”

“heh, really is somethin’ else, ain’t it?”

“Walked right into that one.”

“you ain’t wrong, though. sure is amazing thinking of those clutters of gas bein’ so far away. they spent thousands of years sending out the light we’re seeing now, that’s quite the road trip.”

“Yeah, when you put it that way, this planet was so different when that light was first sent on its missions. No Underground, no vehicles, no delis…”

“and no protag. the biggest bummer of ‘em all, those years missed out on a lot.” Sans has flipped a switch in your heart, and it’s now beating hard enough for you to feel it on the sides of your head. You can’t help but have your thoughts wander a bit after hearing ‘years’, given what you’ve been trying to solve, but you’re able to push it aside for now.

“No Sans, either. Don’t think many people were walking to work with a hot dog in their hand and a smile on their face.” Laughing along, you and Sans take turns each few minutes looking through the telescope into the great beyond. He tells you all these interesting tidbits about the stars he’s lined it up with, like the galaxies they come from, and the hodgepodge of stuff that they’re made of. You can’t think of a better guide to have to teach you about what you’re seeing, and the sight of how his face lights up on his turns is priceless.

“oh, whoops, almost forgot. there’s a beauty of a planet real close. it’d be a real bummer if i didn’t show ya.” Placing his hands around the telescope and tilting it very slightly up and to the left, Sans looks through again.

“perfect. right where it’s supposed to be. here, lemme see if you can guess what it is.” He opens the floor for you to check it out, and you now find a picturesque view of a large blue gas planet with a vertical set of rings.

“Oh, wow! I’ve never had such a great view of… of…” You realize where this going. Turning your head away from the telescope, you see Sans struggling to hold back a laugh.

“heh, can’t swivel your way outta this one. say it.”

“…It’s the oldest one in the book, but fine. I’ve never had such a great view of Uranus.” He does a bow that’s deep enough for you to see the back of his shorts, knowing he completely played you through that. Shaking your head but unable to hold your own smirk back, you look through the telescope again, and admire the beauty of the planet and its rings. Sans goes on about how it’s believed the planet got knocked on its side to make its rotation and rings the ways they are, managing to not make any jokes about Uranus being out of order. When it’s Sans’ turn to look, and you watch him marvel at the sights, you question where he put that joke together, if he doesn’t exactly have a bum of his own, but you stop yourself before you can get too invested in that. Continuing to take turns, you push through the night admiring the natural beauty, letting time and thoughts of work slip away. The warmth you get from Sans’ presence is enough to keep you more than comfortable in the cold. A cooler gust of breeze, not to be confused with the guts of Uranus, does remind you to check your watch, though, and it’s already getting to be past eleven. You’re gonna have to wrap things up… which is your plan, before something new runs through your mind.

Sans is standing there, completely unprotected. There isn’t a single thing that could stop you from drawing him in for a cheekbone smooch, and with how adorable his curiosity looks, every inch of your body’s wanting to. If he’s gay, a dude smooch can’t exactly be something he’s afraid of, and it’d relieve so much of the tension that’s been brewing in your gut the past couple weeks. You stick a foot forward, and are just about to step in for it, before thinking back to the greater picture. Smooching him now might be easy, but it may not be the most comfortable, in a surface breeze. Besides, New Years is only two weeks away, and you’ve been toying with the idea of telling him then and there how you feel. Going ahead with this now would put the brakes on that, so you keep it in, and go back to your original plan with the time.

“I hate to cut our orbit short, Sans, but it’s getting pretty late. Might be time to deploy the landing gear.”

“it’s all good. don’t want you goin’ to work looking like you just came down from a long mission.” Sans grabs at the pieces of the telescope and cautiously slides them back into their original places, leaving you again thankful that he knows how this all works. With how polite that Froggit was, the last thing you’d want to do is damage his equipment. In just a minute, he’s brought it all back to how it was when you were carrying it, and hands them to you.

“let’s head back down before our night nights. we don’t need all this whooshing in our ears.”

“Yeah, none of that in our… ears.” Taking your hand again, Sans closes his eyes and whisks you back into the darkness, and then back to the alley where you’d met up earlier. Without a typical sun and moon cycle, the brightness is the same as when you left, but you’re definitely feeling a little droopier than when your trip began.

“Thanks a bunch for tonight. Meant a lot to let go of how busy things have been.” Sans only knows about the work side of that, but it feels good to still say that in an honest way.

“no problemo, buddyo. never a bad time to give the stars a look, even if you and my bro are bright enough stars already.”

“G-geez, Sans, really?”

“yeah, you’re really open to all that stuff i had to say ‘bout it. didn’t worry for a moment ‘bout getting z’s sent back.”

“Of course I wouldn’t do that. Any day’s a good day to be learning something new.” Sans turns his eye contact away and looks over your jacket.

“hope you were warm enough in that thing. you didn’t become an icicle, but we don’t need ya getting blue blooded. here, lemme, uh… catch you back up.” He stretches his arms out for a hug, which you immediately accept. This time, he’s the one pulling you in more, giving a fair share of back pats in doing so. Rather than rubbing his skull up against your head this time, though, he presses it down onto your chest, setting off a few nerve endings in doing so. Not sure where exactly to go from here, you start patting his spine and the back of his ribs, certain that this is the most feelsy hug that a pair of friends have ever had.

“…Um… could you do the teleporting out from my arms thing again? My hands are too… heheh… cold to let go.”

“sure thing. make sure to get those new year’s wishes ready, bud.” He flashes out from your grasp, and you now feel a lot more alone in an alley like this, despite the Underground being much safer in this sort of space. Bending down, you grab the parts of the telescope, and walk towards the store.

As you slide the parts through the flap, you assure yourself that you’re never going to stop your research. Nights like tonight are ones you’ll never forget, and to keep them as peaceful as possible, you need to find more conclusions. Sans deserves the best you, and a clear mind is what will make that happen. No matter how many research collections, textbooks, or graphic novels it takes, you **will** learn how to stop fear or bonely hearts from prevailing.


	24. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While your research may have not produced any results for what'd happen with you and Sans if you hold a life-long bond, you're not stopping yourself from spending time with him. A night watching over the stars got your bones and his all noodled up, and you know you can't hold in how you feel about him much longer. With New Year's soon approaching, the perfect chance is coming very, very soon.

**Chapter 24 – New Year’s Eve**

Even if you hadn’t been given insight into Papyrus’ plans already, you can tell how much New Year’s means to the Underground. The growing wear on your hands and feet is enough of an implication as is.

If Halloween was fun-sized candy, the buzz at the store now is the house that hands out king-sized bars. While you were expecting things like the party equipment to be flying off the shelves, what you eventually discovered is how much the rush for typical appliances goes up. Apparently, party owners assume that certain pieces of furniture, flooring, and paint are going to be a lost cause, so they stock up on replacements now to get them before they’re all gone. One house with a party in particular must be an extreme lamp enthusiast, because they bought twenty-three before you heard them whimpering something about fearing for their collection.

You’re glad you’ve had a hefty set of experience at the store by now, or this sort of crowd might’ve been far too big of a task to handle. It’s not from the behavior of the guests; they seem even brighter than usual, all exuberant for the chance to impress all their guests and be the talk of whichever of the few towns they’re from. Hearing a shopping rush with nothing but happy anticipation is music to your ears, which mostly makes up from the pain in your arms from all the lifting you’ve been doing. Despite your enjoyment of the crowd, you’ve had to work the back a lot, and with how much is coming in, it certainly isn’t easy.

Your body’s not the only part of you that’s getting a workout, either. No matter how draining the day is, you still make time to get to the library afterwards for more searching, if only for a couple hours some nights. The Magic & Souls section has proven to not offer what you’d been hoping for, so you take cracks at some other sections, some of which are as outlandish as cooking ones. With how old some of them are, you figured there could be some sort of phrase in there about humans and monsters together, but aside from one very interesting cake recipe you’ve decided to jot down, the entrée you want isn’t there. Each weeknight over the following two weeks provides you with the library’s ambience and a wealth of knowledge, but it still feels like a bit of a boot to the head when you leave without the answers. The weekends prove to be the biggest boots, as they’re full days that you’re not spending with the bone brothers, in place of research with no results. At least Sans keeps enough of a smile on your face, through text exchanges like this:

** “hey. protag.”**

**“Yeah?”**

**“didja hear about the blizzard that ran through town last night?”**

**“Sans, I thought blizzards were a normal thing out there, I got smacked in the face by one once.”**

**“oh, this one was totally different. you’re gonna freeze down to the last bone when you get a celcius of the damage.”**

**“Great. Now I’m loaded with fear-enheit.”**

**“ya better be. i was already pretty wind chilled by the news.”** Things like that are how he still pulls you in more each day.

As your Sans-related gushing grows more each morning and night, you’re more and more certain of your idea to tell him how you feel when New Year’s comes. It’s been nearly a month now of inability to figure out a solution to what would happen with you two in the long term, but if your heart has anything to say about it, you’ll combust if you don’t speak up soon. That day-by-day, thoughtful, goofy attitude of his has you completely captured, and fighting that would be a disservice to him just as much as it’d be to yourself.

You’ve been using ‘heart’ to describe this feeling to yourself, but the more you think about it, the more you think it might be something else. Thinking back to your recent date and the night with the telescope, there was almost a warming buzz emanating from inside you. With the knowledge of how a soul works that most of surface life still has to pick up, you’ve got a strong idea that your soul’s crying out to you when you’re near him that you’re deep in the feels pit. No use fighting that kind of instinct.

On the night of the 30th, once you’ve had some ICE-E Brand Instant Steak Dinner (how and why do they make so many of these things…), you realize you hadn’t given any thought to what kind of attire a festival like tomorrow’s has. You shoot another text Sans’ way about it, and he gives some truly valuable advice.

**“best way to plan for tomorrow’s to plan absolutely nothing.”**

**“Nothing?”**

**“yup. zippo. wear whatever those pesky veins of yours pull towards.”**

**“Alright. I’ll make sure whatever I wear shows the least planning possible.”**

**“bad start. you’re already thinking about it too much. it’s probably a lost cause by now.”**

**“You win again.” **You’re not gonna turn down what he said, so you don’t let yourself take a single look at the closet. Closeting off those plans might be a little hard, since seeing how he blushed up at the date shows there’s potential, but you try to turn it away as you enter your last sleep of the year. Thoughts of the research may try to creep their way back in, but you’ll do your best to suppress them as much as possible. You, Sans, and Papyrus deserve a night you’ll never forget for all the right reasons.

An ICE-E’s Brand Product™ isn’t what you had in mind for your final breakfast of the year, as you get up on the morning of New Year’s Eve, so you have something far more riveting instead; microwaveable pancakes. To be fair, they were prepared in Snowdin, and the natural air was what froze them, so it’s the best you could ask for a product like that. Once your stomach’s full, you throw your work clothes on and walk to work at a quick pace. Sans is the last person to ask for things to be impressed by, but if today’s the last day you’re at the absolutely-totally-only-friends level, a productive day at work could be something for him to be proud of. It’s the kind of energy Papyrus would like to see, too.

That point is what your mind jogs with as you tackle your busiest day yet. There’s nothing out of the ordinary you’ve been assigned to in the back, so you’re capable, but it’s leaving you very thankful your shift’s over at four today. If it was the normal length, there’s a good chance you’d noodle out before midnight. While lifting heavy and not-as-heavy boxes in the back throughout the morning, you think of how you’re going to tell Papyrus about what you want to tell his brother. With how close-knit they are, talking to him about it first seems like the responsible way to go; it might be your first time in this sort of thing, but you know Papyrus certainly wants the best for him, so giving him the explanation could help him relax in knowing his hot-dog champion’s in the right hands.

Over your lunch break, you let Sans know that the sickness from last month hasn’t found a bad time to come back, and that you’ll definitely be there for the night. He gives his thanks for the heads up and says he’ll get the couch ready to not eat you, which is relieving enough to hear. The skeleton brothers have offered their home for you to stay in for the night, which you’re greatly appreciative of; between the unpredictability of the blizzards, and the Riverperson possibly having their own party, you don’t want your first night of the year to also be the last one.

The shift presses on, with the workload still not being enough to take your mind off of the night ahead, but keeping you busy enough to move the time along. Your watch is soon buzzing for four in the afternoon, and after handing off the last box to a very timid Whimsun to stock it, it’s thankfully time to head back to the apartment. Rubbing your hands together from a day’s work well done, you punch out at the machine and are about to take off through the front doors, before you see Brenda by the checkout, talking to a customer that’s trying to buy twenty-seven lamp shades without the lamps. If anyone could sort that ordeal out, it’s her. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see her since the date, so you know a talk’s in order before heading out to get ready for the night. Whatever she said to the customer worked, because they’re now slowly turning around to put them back, giving you the perfect opportunity to step in.

“Hello, Brenda. Fancy seeing you for the first time again on a day like _today_.”

“Treated myself to a trip up to the surface. You learn the little things over time, and one of them’s that when no one’s using the lakes in December, you don’t waste that chance.”

“Think I’m a little too warm-blooded for that, but I’ll still keep it in mind. Glad you had a nice month out of it, ma’am.”

“Thank you, the scales sure weren’t complaining. How’d that dinner with the guyfriend go?” You look around to make sure no one’s approaching Brenda for anything, and decide the coast is clear enough.

“Went wonderfully. Having his company always puts a smile on my face, we ended up ordering the same meal, and even had some real tight hugs after.” You don’t see any reason to bring up what you’d realized after; Brenda might be able to put together that sharing her age is what got you worked up, and she doesn’t need that sort of stress, especially not after a trip as nice as the one she had.

“Great news, was rooting for you. Have you and him locked things in yet?”

“No, not yet, but… I think I wanna make tonight the night. Going to that celebration in Snowdin that I put the fliers up for.”

“The one with the really excited skeleton? That’s the dude?” Papyrus happened to put himself on the flier as well, and you weren’t gonna be one to tell him not to.”

“No, not him, but, uh… someone that looks sorta similar.”

“Oh, his brother? Don’t worry about spilling any beans, I’ve seen them both around, they’re both… interesting dudes. I’m not gonna spread anything about it, believe me.” You weren’t expecting Brenda to put that together so soon, but with how small of a town Snowdin seems to be, you can’t be all _that_ surprised.

“…Yeah, his brother. He pulls his pranks, but he’d never do one here that’d damage property.”

“Hmmm, the way he’d meander around and see what sounds things make wouldn’t have made me think of him as the dating type. You must’ve really worked a number up on him.” Numbers. Age. Hahaha. Your talks with Brenda seem to have some sort of bad luck with this coming up, but it doesn’t seem like that’d be her intention, so you keep a straight face as a non-straight and continue.

“Ehehe, guess so. I’ve just tried to be myself, and he has, too, so I suppose that means we’ve clicked really well. Holding it all in can’t wait another night.” You hope Papyrus somehow realizes right now that you used ‘clicked’ the same way he does.

“Well, don’t wait another night, then. Judging from those flyers you hung around, it sounds like a great time, so I’m sure you can get your own bones to let it all out to his.”

“Thanks, I sure hope they will. You’re more than invited to come by town, too, if you wanted to check out the celebration.”

“Appreciated, but I don’t think I wanna get back to the buzz of things right after the trip. Besides, the wife’s back after her work trip to the Himalayas, she could use some warm affection right about now.”

“Glad you’ve got your place in Hotland, then. All those relaxed feelings should really erupt.”

“Same with you tonight, even if it is in a frozen tundra. Go knock ‘em dead, Protag.” Another handshake, and you’re out the door. Just like with the date nerves, you appreciate getting to talk with her before something as big as this. There’s a calm before the storm around the streets, and you figure it’s best to get to the apartment and get back out before they can get insane, so that’s what you do. Arriving back at your room, you remember a text that Sans sent last night…

**“don’t bother with makin’ your own dinner. there’s gonna be enough food that we’ll probably have to thaw you out.”**

**“Thaw me out?”**

**“yeah, when the dumplings make ya dump over in pleasure and fall nose-first in snow. could be the pop rocks that make ya pop off your feet, though. i dunno what’s best buds with yer taste buds.”**

…and decide that instant food isn’t the way to go right now. You’re not one to question monsters living up the food party, so you solely focus on getting your teeth brushed and flossed the best you can. Sans didn’t say anything about not preparing your hygiene, so you can be as paranoid as you want about that without anyone caring. Once that’s taken care of, you do your best to follow Sans’ recommendation of not planning your outfit at all, and end up pulling out a pair of navy, skinny-ish jeans, and the same black hoodie you’d worn the first time you’d seen him at his comedy act. Before you can get sentimental about it, though, you realize just wearing that over a shirt would be an easy way for Sans’ chilling prophecy to come true, so some other layers get pulled out the closet as well. Throwing it on with the same boot shoes as usual and looking in the mirror, it seems like the sort of casual outfit he’s expecting, so if it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for you. Looking back around your apartment for the last time this year and hoping you’ll have a relaxed mind coming back, you’re about to leave, when you suddenly get another vibration from your pocket, and see that Sans hasn’t finished.

**“hey. hope ya didn’t skele-daddle out too soon. almost forgot to ask ya something.”**

**“What is it?”**

**“you have a bag for that guitar of yours, right?”**

**“Yeah, did you need it for a sleeping bag or something?”**

**“good idea, actually, but nah. would your heartstrings be warm enough to bring those strings of yours?”**

**“Oh, yeah, sure thing. Wanted to hear some music for the holiday?”**

**“somethin’ like that. just please bring it. been real important to me, ever since i saw it in your apartment that day.”** It’s an unusually semi-serious request from him, but one that you see no reason to not listen to. The guitar’s not made of lead, so it won’t destroy your shoulders on the way. Grabbing the guitar from by your closet, you open up the door to take the bag, and cautiously set it inside before zipping it up. It’s been a good few weeks since you last played it, but whether it’s for town or just an exclusive song for him, you’re sure you can string something together. You sling it over your shoulder and do get through the door this time, wondering a bit what he’d like to hear from it.  
  


In the brief time you’d taken to get dressed, there’s already some more commotion on the roads. Some barricades have been set up to keep the crowds from getting too close to the fireworks display, including a Knight Knight that’s at least twelve feet tall and is standing as a barricade of his own. He must enjoy the chance to still use that royal armor. The homes themselves aren’t as lit up as they were on Halloween, most likely from all the celebrating being out on the streets, but you can tell from all the bustle from the monsters wandering around that tonight’s a very big deal. Just like any prior holidays, this is your first New Year’s in the Underground, and seeing the kind of jubilance that springs up from a night like this is fascinating. The sky might be the same as always, since there’s no stars to shine over for midnight, but it also means there’s nothing that can rain on the parade, so you’ll take it. There’s not much to be done in New Home right now, though, with what you’re waiting to see, so you take the typical walk out of the city, down the Core, and off to the Hotland station, where the Riverperson’s waiting, as always.

“Greetings. Care to ride with me in my boat?”

“Yes, please, kind s- person.” You’re not sure how the Riverperson identifies, if they identify at all, and assuming’s never the way to go.

“Where shall we go?”

“Snowdin.”

“Then we’re off…” The Riverperson and the dog head on his boat each have a party hat with pink and white stripes on it. As the boat begins to glide along the waters, you figure that unless they do some traveling off the boat, it’ll be a fairly lonely party for them tonight.

“Hmm… parties. The dogs don’t usually like fireworks, anyway.” That answers that. They continue to stare ahead at the navy waters the boat crosses through, and as the dog boat trots past Waterfall’s station, where you realize you’ve never had one time you stopped to let someone else on, it comes to you that this could be some of the Riverperson’s final lasting memories of the year. You’re not sure how often he receives compliments, but if there’s ever a time they’re greatly deserving of one, it’s now.

“River… erm… Riverperson?” They turn around, giving you a full look at the black nothingness inside their hood, while the dog boat continues its running.

“I wanted to thank you for all of these rides you’ve given me. It’s been truly important in bringing me close to some people and a town I care for a lot, and you being here at any time I need a ride is always appreciated. Without your aid, lots of the memories I’ve made may have never happened.” The Riverperson continues to stare at you, not making a word, and you begin to wonder if there’s some sort of boat custom you’ve infringed. They then slowly nod their head down, though, their robe creasing up a bit in the progress. You’d never seen them do any gesture that wasn’t staring into the openness, so you hope this means they took your words to heart. The rest of the ride passes in silence, until you arrive at Snowdin’s station. There’s already some distant noise from town that can be heard, getting the excited nerves moving a little harder as you step onto the crunching snow.

“Come again some time. Tra la la.”

“I definitely will. Thank you, Riverperson, I hope you have a wonderful New Year’s.” Compliments given, you step into town, where much like New Home, you can already tell that some things are different. A typical day in Snowdin has some bustle around the center of town, but from a distance, it looks like there’s plenty of faces you’d never seen before. Papyrus and his support, yourself included, must’ve done a lot of reaching out. The wolf isn’t chucking ice cubes into the stream, either, demonstrating just how big of a deal tonight is. As you approach the main road, you can’t make out any other humans in the growing mingling crowd, but that’s perfectly fine. The bones you’re about to meet up with are ones you’d take over another set of skin any day. Whatever Papyrus has been setting up by the end of town near the hanging bridge is covered by a huge fence, with “DO NOT SPOIL THE SURPRISE FOR ANYONE” written across it. You’re glad to see he’s got the same opinion on spoilers as you do. As engaging as the vibrant town is, though, you don’t want to look like a goof by standing around on your own, so you take the quick left to the skeletons’ house, straighten out your hoodie strings a bit, and step up to the steps in front of the door to knock. A trousle of bones can be heard on the other side, and a couple seconds later, it quickly swings open.

“GOOD EVENING, PROTAG!! I HOPE THAT FLESH OF YOURS IS READY FOR THE MOST BONE-A-FIDE NEW YEAR’S CELEBRATION YOU’VE EVER SEEN! NYEH HEH!” Papyrus’ battle body’s the same as always, aside from seeming a little shinier than usual. He must’ve given it some extra cleaning, so it’s all bright in front of town. It might not last long, though, with the array of food trays, fireworks, and other forms of fun in his arms.

“Need a hand with any of that?”

“THE OFFER’S MUCH APPRECIATED, PROTAG, BUT NO THANK YOU!! THIS HAS TO BE A ONE-SKELETON JOB, I’VE CAUTIOUSLY METICULATED THE EXACT WAY EACH ELEMENT OF THIS CELEBRATION CAN PRODUCE THE MOST FUN! JUST ABOUT ANYTHING CAN BE PUZZLED TOGETHER, IF YOU TRY HARD ENOUGH.” He backs away from the door to show you what he means. There’s an array of books sprawled across the couch, tv, and even by Rocko. When you squint, you make out that it’s a book designed to teach how to keep pets content at a time like now.

“Woah, you’ve been going through all of that yourself?”

“WELL, MY BROTHER’S BEEN GIVING SYNOPSES WHENEVER I NEED TO BE READING TWO AT THE SAME TIME, BUT HE’S ALWAYS THROWING HIS DASTARDLY JOKES IN THERE, TOO. SUPPOSE IT’S STILL BETTER THAN NOTHING.”

“yeah, if ya tried to read all that on your own, it’d make your day a real party pooper.” The skeleton making the voice soon walks up to the door, giving you a perfect view of Sans in the bone. He’s got the same attire on as always, driving home the point of not giving tonight any extra preparation. The slippers are a slightly different shade of pink than last time, reminding you of when he’s said he’s got some different kinds, so tonight must be this deeper hue’s night to shine. If you don’t count him zipping up his hoodie when you were watching the stars, it’s the first time in a while you’ve seen him in his completely typical look, serving as a fast reminder of just how cute he is.

“H-hey, Sans! Happy New Year’s Eve!”

“heya, protag. right back at ya. i’d say something to crack ya up, but the firecrackers aren’t til midnight.”

“Haha, no problem. Looking forward to seeing Underground fireworks for the first time, I’m sure it’ll blow the roof off.”

“OH, DON’T GO WORRYING ABOUT THAT, PROTAG. IF BLOWING THROUGH THE GROUND ABOVE WAS A CONCERN, A FIREWORKS SHOW WOULD’VE DONE SO LONG AGO.”

“Good point, that’d be an avalanche of fear if no one had figured that out.” A pun-off. Right now, everything in the world’s how it should be.

“hey, you broke the secret dress code rule.”

“What? I thought you said the only rule was to follow no rules at all.”

“ya mean you didn’t hear the secret code in the letters? geez, thought ya knew better by now, ya bum. ya gotta bring a party hat to show off that party spirit.”

“Oh… my bad. Didn’t know that was part of the experience.”

“lucky for you, my brother decided to make an extra for every single guest he’s expecting. even a seasoned veteran could forget in a buzz like now. here, we even decided to customize this one for ya.” Sans backs away a bit and beckons for you to come in, and you follow suit, feeling the soft carpeting on the floor against your boot shoes. Aside from the books sprawled all around, and the occasional firework that’s been dropped, it all seems just the same as when you were last around. Rocko seems to have more sprinkles than usual, so they must’ve gotten an extra treat for the holiday. He walks to the left side of the living room, where the floor is flooded with a wave of party hats, most with their own name written on them. There’s one in the front with your name on it, though, and it’s different than all the others. It’s a shade of blue that’s a lot like Sans’ hoodie, with the letters of your name written out in a bone pattern. He bends his knees down to scoop it up, then brings it your way.

“bend down a bit, i wanna get it just right on that hair of yours. heard a party hat gone wrong can mean a nasty bad hair night, and i don’t wanna put you to put yourself in such a hairy spot.”

“Yikes, if it could be that bad of a catastrophe, then go ahead.” You bend your own knees so Sans’ small stature can reach, but as he reaches his hands up, it hits you that you hadn’t put together _how_ Sans would have to put the hat on. He uses his left arm to set the hat on the top of your hair, while using the other to pull the string down to rest under your chin. Because of physics, it means one of his hands has to brush up on your hair, while the other feels your chin’s skin, which is exactly what happens. It’s not a surprise, but feeling the chilly bones of his hands touching all around your head is so… gosh…

You’re glad you’d already been planning to tell him tonight how you feel, because if you hadn’t, you might’ve had to put a plan together on the fly right now.

“...aaaaaaaand there. forecast shows no rate of party pooping now. use that camera of yours ‘n give it a look.” Pulling your phone out, you switch the front camera on to see your new look, and internally squirm up a bit from the sight of the hat perched on your head. You can tell a lot of love went into it from the skeletons.

“Thanks a bunch for this, it’ll look great! Really lucky you two thought to bail me out like this.”

“oh, about that. the whole needing to bring your hat thing.”

“Yeah?”

“i was just kiddin’. it’s just fun seeing ya get all bent outta shape.”

“…Oh. You sure got your way then.”

“I’D EVEN TOLD YOU BEFORE THAT I HAD BEEN PREPARING HATS FOR EACH GUEST. ALAS, YOU’VE FALLEN PREY TO MY BROTHER’S SCHEME ONCE AGAIN.” If you don’t find a way to get him back right now, he’ll know you’ll be his prey all night.

“Yeah, this artsy fart got to see me all nervous while he put it on. Guess his creativity’s even brighter than his slippers.” Sans’ confidence slips away, giving you a somehow slightly nervous look in its place.

“heheh, i dunno if i’d go that far. my brother’s the one that put it together, all i did was femur out how the bones should go.”

“Their curvature’s top notch. Only second to those ribs of yours you showed off at dinner, you’re quite the teaser with that.” A drop of sweat builds from the left side of his head, and as you look to your left, you can tell that Papyrus is enjoying this immensely. By some miracle, this seems to be a power of yours that few, if any, have been able to pull on his brother. Since Papyrus is the one putting this event together, the least you can do is give him something to smile about while getting the skeleton you know you love all flustered up at the same time, so you deal the finishing blow.

“I don’t know what else I was expecting, anyway. Someone that’s able to put a spin-e like this on a hat’s gotta have the cutest creative palate under that skull.” Letting that out gets your face feeling a little warm, but it pales in comparison to the fresh shade of sky-blue that Sans is showing off now. He grabs at his elbows in the same sort of way he did after the last window, and doesn’t even try to bounce an idea of his own off of you in reply.

“PROTAG, THAT WAS AMAZING. I’D BE GIVING YOU PLENTY OF G NOW FOR THAT IF I COULD, BUT THEN IT’D BE BRIBERY. I DON’T WANT TO RUIN YOUR GAME NOW BEFORE IT CAN TAKE OFF TO THE MOON.”

“Awww, it’s no biggie. Missed getting to see you guys, so I’ve just got a lot to let out right now. Your brother would still beat me in a joke-off any day.”

“IF IT WAS A FREE NIGHT, I’D LET YOU GO AT IT. IT’D BE THE BEST FREE-PER-VIEW IN HISTORY. THERE’S SOMETHING I MUST ASK OF MY BROTHER, THOUGH.” Hearing ‘brother’ snaps Sans out of his trance for the first time since your last clever wordplay, and the blue on his face fades away, much to your internal chagrin.

“huh? what’d ya need, bro?”

“IT’S FOR THIS SHOW OF MINE. EVERYTHING SO FAR’S BEEN CALCULATED TO PERFECTION, BUT ONE ELEMENT’S STILL MISSING. I’M GOING TO HAVE TO ASK YOU IF YOU CAN MAKE…” He clears his non-existent throat.

“…THE FIREWORK.” Sans’ pupils shrink a bit.

“**the** firework?”

“YES. THE FIREWORK. IN ORDER TO GET THE CROWD AS UNGLUED AS A PACK OF PIRANHAS, THE SHOW MUST BEGIN WITH THE FIREWORK. SURELY YOU’D BE CAPABLE OF SCIENCE-ING ONE OF THOSE TOGTHER IN A JIFFY?” Sans stands there for a moment with his hand on his chin, seeming to be in some deep thought. It takes a few moments, but he then sets his hand down and looks his brother right in the eye sockets.

“ok.”

“HUH. AFTER ALL PROTAG RALLIED OFF, I REALLY THOUGHT YOU’D BUILT UP A JAPE THAT’D BOIL OVER.”

“eh, i’m workin’ with the firework, something’ll **launch** me up that high later.” Papyrus groans, but then immediately follows up by patting his brother on the shoulder. If this firework’s as big of a deal as they’re making it out to be, making it’s gotta be a big responsibility.

“WAIT ONE SECOND. PROTAG’S OUR GUEST NOW, WE SHOULDN’T LEAVE HIM ALONE RIGHT AFTER ARRIVING.”

“who said he’d be alone? he can come watch me in the lab, doubt it’ll kill him.” You’d known Sans is into some science things, but had no idea there’s a lab somewhere in his house. It’s been long enough for you to be at ease with the killing part, though, so you’re far more filled with fascination than fear.

“I’d love to check it out, as long as you’re both alright with me being around in this lab of yours, of course.”

“if we didn’t trust ya, we wouldn’t offer. besides, disregarding terrible vitamins, don’t think i’ve put ya in a bad spot yet.” He sees the scrunch your face makes from the memories of that terrible taste, and winks. The combo of his wink and your hoodie being from the first time you’d seen him makes memories of your pasts run through your head, and the weight of what you’re going to try to tell him today hits a little heavier.

“BY ALL MEANS, FEEL FREE TO CHECK IT OUT, PROTAG. IGNORE MY BROTHER’S REMARK, I CAN ASSURE THERE’S NOTHING IN THERE THAT’LL DESTROY YOU, OR EVEN COME CLOSE TO THAT POINT.”

“yup. nothing untimely’s gonna happen before the time hits midnight.” He snickers a bit. “i’ll go get the goods together in there. meet me in the back whenever yer ready, and leave the guitar behind, unless music science is something that gets your fluids boiling.” You hadn’t realized how the bag over your shoulder was starting to weigh down on you, so you nod your head and begin to pull it off your shoulder, as Sans scooches past you and goes out the front door. You’re not sure why he has to leave the house to get to this lab, but you’ll follow him soon. While you’re setting the bag down near Rocko’s table, though, you realize that it’s just you and Papyrus in the house. There couldn’t be a better chance for you to bring things up with him.

“Hey, Papyrus?”

“YES, PROTAG?” You notice he still hasn’t set down the load of materials in his arms, and feel a little bad for bringing something up right now.

“I know you’re real busy with getting this all together, and I don’t mean for this to be a bad time, but… is there a chance we could talk about something? Bone to flesh?”

“WHY, CERTAINLY! MIGHT NOT BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR HUMANS ANYMORE, BUT I CAN DEFINITELY STILL LOOK OUT FOR ONE.” Papyrus sets his fireworks and other party favors by your guitar back. Sans really does have the best brother he could ask for.

“COME SIT DOWN. IF THIS IS GOING TO BE BONE TO FLESH, THE FLESH CAN’T BE FEELING ANY PRESSURE.” He walks over to the couch and sits down first, and you follow suit, making sure to keep your distance from the hoodie that’s still wedged between the cushions. Seeing him this close and personal puts into perspective how one of his eye sockets is a little smaller than the other; you’d never really paid attention to it until now. It’s almost like something you could stick a huge plug into, and you make a mental note to remind him of that for _next_ Halloween.

“THAT BETTER?”

“Definitely. You’ve got a hearty couch.”

“THANK YOU, IT SURVIVED MY BROTHER’S INSISTENCE TO MOVE IT… TWICE… SO I’M GLAD IT HAS VALUE TO YOU.”

“It’s… eheh… funny you mention your brother so soon.”

“OF COURSE I DO. WHEN YOU LIVE WITH SOMEONE EACH DAY, LET ALONE ONE WITH HIS LIFESTYLE, THERE’S DEFINITELY SOME THINGS TO BE SAID.”

“Sure is. I can always say something about that personality of h-his.” The stutter at the end makes the first crack strike. Getting the next part out’s tougher than you thought.

“Papyrus, there’s something about your brother that I have to bring up.”

“IS HIS HEALTH STILL IN ORDER?? YOU’VE SEEN HIM A LOT, I HOPE HE’S EATING THE LITTLE ORANGES I SAID HE’D GET SOME PUNCH OUT OF.”

“Heheh, come to think of it, he did smell a little like oranges when we were watching the stars, so I think you can rest happily for that. His health’s all fine around me, no worries.”

“PHEW, GLAD THAT’S CLEARED UP. DON’T WANT HIM LOSING ALL HIS ENERGY AND HITTING A NAP STINT ON ONE OF YOUR LITTLE ADVENTURES.”

“Nah, he’s never done that on one of them. He’s actually lit up in ways through those I’d never seen him in before.” You stop for a moment and look over Papyrus’ curious face. He’s definitely cute in his own merit, but there’s another cute skeleton you have to get to the point for.

“Papyrus, as long as I have your word, there’s some things I need to tell your brother tonight… I-”

“YOU LOVE HIM, DON’T YOU?” Both of the brothers seem to know how to stop you dead in your tracks.

“…H-how did you-”

“IT’D BE BABY BONES FOR ME NOT TO NOTICE. EVERYTHING YOU DO IS FOR EACH OTHER’S SAKE, IT’S SO STRONG THAT I CAN FEEL THE ENERGIES FROM HIS ROOM. THEY SMELL LIKE RELISH.”

“…You’re right. I do love him. What tipped it off to you?”

“DID HE EVER TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THAT DATE OF YOURS?” Hearing someone else say ‘date’ brings out another rush of warmness to your face, as you shake your head. The bits that Papyrus had talked about over the phone prior were all you’d known.

“WHEN HE CAME INTO THE HOUSE, HIS BONES WERE SHAKING SO LOUDLY THAT I COULD HEAR THEM WITH MY OWN EARS. HE SWAYED INTO THE KITCHEN TO DRINK SOME WATER, OF ALL THINGS, AND SEEMED TO RECITE SOME TOAST TO HYDRATION BEFORE GOING TO HIS ROOM TO TAKE HIS OUTFIT OFF. YOU DON’T SEEM TO KNOW A LICK OF MAGIC, SO WHATEVER YOU DID TO HIM IS COMPLETELY PERPLEXING. I LOVE IT.”

“You love it?”

“ABSOLUTELY. MY BROTHER’S HAD FRIENDS, BUT NEVER A BOND AS CLUTCHING AS THIS ONE. I KNOW HE MIGHT BE A FAN OF THIS COUCH, AND DOESN’T DO THE MOST EXTRAVAGENT THINGS, BUT DEEP DOWN IN HIS BONES, I THINK HE’S ALWAYS BEEN WAITING FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS. TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, YOUR LACK OF WANTING A SCHEDULE SEEMS TO BE SPEAKING TO HIM A LOT.”

“O-of course. Planning too much stuff out ahead of time’s never fun, enjoying things day by day with him is what’s kept things as natural and fresh as they are.”

“YOUR PATTERNS TELL ME THAT’S NOT GOING TO CHANGE ANYTIME SOON, WHICH IS PERFECT. HE’S GOING TO HAVE THE PERFECT BOYFRIEND ON HIS HANDS.”

“Boyf, f, friend?”

“YES, THAT’S WHAT YOU CALL IT, RIGHT?”

“It is, I’m just… not used to hearing someone else say it. I take it that means I have your complete support in telling him how I feel?”

“WITHOUT A DOUBT. OUR EXPERIENCES ON THE SURFACE WERE NOT PERFECT, WHICH ADMITTEDLY HAD GIVEN ME SOME NERVY NERVES FOR IF ANY DUDE WERE TO FALL INTO MY BROTHER’S PICTURE. I’D NEVER WANT HIM TO WIND UP WITH SOMEONE THAT CAN’T APPRECIATE HIS LIFESTYLE. FOR YOU, THOUGH, I’VE HAD NOTHING BUT TRUST. PROTAG, YOU AND MY BROTHER GO BETTER TOGETHER THAN THE TWO BIGGEST, BRIGHTEST PEAS IN THE BIGGEST, BRIGHTEST POD, AND IF YOU DECIDE TO MAKE IT INTO A BIG THING, I’LL BE YOUR RELATIONSHIP’S BIGGEST FAN… WELL, ME AND ONE OF OUR OTHER FRIENDS. SHE MIGHT WANT TO WRITE ALL ABOUT YOU AND HIM ONCE THE BEANS ARE SPILLED.”

“Write about us?”

“YES, SHE LOVES WRITING ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS. THINK ABOUT HOW MUCH STORY MATERIAL SHE HAS; SKELETON, ON HIS OWN FOR SO LONG, FINALLY FINDS THE GUY, AND THEY LIVE A HAPPY LIFE TOGETHER. SHE’LL BE PRINTING OUT COPIES FASTER THAN HER AND UNDYNE’S PRINTER CAN HANDLE. TREES, BEWARE.”

“Oooooh, she’s your friend’s wife. Suppose her and I are gonna have a lot to talk about if we ever meet.” You’re flattered that your potential upcoming deep bond with Sans could mean that much to someone you’ve never met, but the twinge of the deeper implications of a long bond come back to mind, with your unfinished work. You’ve heard from Papyrus that Undyne’s wife is greatly intelligent, so if she put together the same problem that you’d been worried over, her inspiration to put fiction together might grind to a halt. You don’t want the worry to show in front of Papyrus, though, so you do your best to hold off on thinking about that as long as you can.

“I don’t mean to keep you from your work too long, I know this is the night all your planning’s come together for. Thank you for this, I wanted to be completely upfront to make sure this is a situation you’re comfortable with.

“IF ANYTHING, I’M FLATTERED YOU WANTED MY SHOW TO BE THE PLACE AND TIME IT HAPPENS. I CAN ASSURE YOU THE SETTING WILL NOT DISAPPOINT! I BETTER GET GOING, THOUGH, CROWD’LL GET NUTS IF THERE’S NOT ENOUGH FOOD FOR THEM. YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE A FESTIVAL WITH FAMISHED GUESTS, BELIEVE ME.”

“That sounds like horror film material, so it’s thoughtful of you to keep them fed. Go knock ‘em dead, Papyrus.” If Brenda used that on you, you figure another monster would take it well enough. Papyrus stands up and gives you a finger point while managing to keep all of his contents in his arms, before hustling over to the door and kicking it open to get out. You’ve never seen someone with the same kind of push that he gets for putting things together, so you’ve got nothing but respect and admiration. Sans might be waiting for you outside, and holding him up isn’t in your plans tonight, so you get up from the couch and approach the door yourself, just putting together now how wonderful it’s gonna be, seeing your crush use his noggin for something presumably this intense. **The** Firework doesn’t seem like something anyone could throw together, so he could have some fairly nuts stuff on his hands. Making sure to give Rocko a pat before heading out, you open up the door and notice that the crowd’s continuing to build up some, before turning around to the backyard of the house. There’s no fence, or anything else for that matter that’d make it look like a backyard, but there’s a staircase that lowers by the side the house, with an open door at the bottom. You cautiously work down the slippery steps, and enter where the door lays open.

“oh, hey, protag. ya got me thinking the couch ate you.”

“Nah, I’m still in one piece-” Well, that’s an attire change you weren’t expecting today. Sans’ hoodie is hanging by a little coat rack by the door, and he’s donning a white lab coat in its place. It’s a little big for him, as you can tell from the sleeves being rolled up, and how far past his knees it droops, but it only makes him look more adorable in it. The sight of him in wearing it is almost enough to distract you from the rest of lab, but you’re eventually able to adjust your focus. It’s an awfully simple room; purple tiles make up the floor, the walls are a shade of blue without much vibrancy, and there’s a long, pinkish work countertop with some drawers under it. On the desk, there’s already some bottles of powders and fluids set up, as well as a cardboard that must be the shell of the firework that it’s all going into.

“i dunno if you’re starin’ at me or the desk, but whatever it is, you’re really gettin’ heated up by some oxidizer.” It takes a moment to understand what he’s talking about, but thinking back to your high school chemistry class, you realize he’s bringing up a component of fire, which is a pretty good way to describe how you’re face is feeling right now.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, oxidizers! Cool stuff!” That was some sort of… sentence?

“A-anyway, didn’t know you had this much space to work back here. Use it much?”

“nope. wanna take a firecrack at the last place i cracked this room open?”

“Whenever you need new chemistry jokes to crack people up with?”

“solid guess, but nada. it was the **last** time i made the firework. getting some nostalgia kicks right up the booty from being in here.”

“Means a lot to you?”

“yuppers. spent many-a day here as a kid learning stuff. used to be quite the science nut, thanks to dad.”

“Oh, you never told me about your father! I’m sure he’s happy you’re still using this place.”

“heh, i sure hope so. here, roll this drawer open.” He points to the one by his hip, so you walk over and cautiously pull it open… only for a whoopee cushion to get set off inside from doing so. It all really does come full circle.

“How long’ve you had that in there?”

“six years. congratulations on bein’ the big whooppayoff.”

“I’m honored.”

“you should be. not everyone gets six-year old air blasted on ‘em. open the one on the left, though. that one’s real.” This time, you open it even slower than the one before, in case there’s any other surprises in it, but when it’s pulled the whole way, there’s a different kind of surprise insde. Aside from some pencils and scattered notes sprawled around the inside, there’s a drawing sitting in the middle of Sans and Papyrus, albeit much younger than they are now. They’re not the only ones in the art piece, either. There’s a taller, skeleton-like figure with a black cloak and hovering hands in the middle, with one rested on a shoulder of each of the brothers. At the top of the drawing, the words “don’t forget.” have been written out in a black crayon.

“that’s dad. my bro and i made it together one day. guess art wasn’t drawn out to be our careers.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Sans, this is really sweet. I can totally make out you and your brother’s features, and your father looks real neat, too.” The way Sans is passively addressing his father gives the impression he’s not around anymore, and tonight’s not the night to press into that, so you hold off on it.

“No matter what, I’m sure he’s proud of what you’re putting together. This firework sounds like it’s gonna blow everyone away.”

“heheh, it sure should. remember when i told ya ‘bout brick number 8392?”

“Yeah?”

“the firework… urm… paid brick number 8393 a visit.” Oh, the horror. If 8392 wasn’t a heavy enough burden, now you have to grip the news that 8393 is gone as well. You’ll try, as hard as it may be, to not let that ruin your night.

“This thing must be real powerful, then.”

“yup. never seen a human near one, and i couldn’t bear to see ya as a test dummy.”

“Don’t light your fuse over it, that’s not my plan.” Sans chuckles before cracking his fingers, seemingly ready to get to work. You back up a bit to give him all the space he needs, as he pulls out another drawer to take out some beakers. You’re expecting him to set them all out in a neat line, but he spreads them over the desk with no order whatsoever.

“ya only got so much glucose at any given time, and i ain’t using that to organize those. don’t even care of the beakers beakcon out loud.” Sans doesn’t seem to hit much of a serious switch when getting to work, as he jokes around while rolling out the cardboard he’ll hold the contents in. Once it’s been set up, he gets straight to the nitty gritties, pouring powdery mixes and liquids into vials, weigh boats, and beakers with seeming no strain of thought. You’d expect something like measuring an ingredient to the millimeter would take some time, but he seemingly gives each one a perfect pour with a casual twist of his wrist. It’s really hard to not ask about it right now, but you don’t want to mess with his flow.

“hey. protag.”

“Yeah?”

“i can tell you’re at least ten feet back. are ya scared this stuff’s gonna blow?”

“Oh, not at all, I trust your work completely. I just haven’t wanted to get in your way.”

“nah, you can come close. just let me know if you’ve got 5000 g in your pocket for the entertainment fee.” With how much work you’ve had recently, you might actually have that much on you, but it’s not worth whatever direction _that_ could send his joke in.

“You’re really trying to bankrupt me on New Year’s Eve.”

“nah, that can wait til valentine’s day. get over here.” _Gosh, Valentine’s Day_. It’d be easy to devolve into thinking about that, but now’s not the time. Stepping closer to Sans, you get a stagnant whiff of his lab coat. It’s not the most pleasant scent you’ve come across in a while, but for a lab coat that’s been sitting around for years, you’re not sure what else you were expecting. Throughout all of that, Sans hadn’t turned his head once, and only does when he reaches to grab a bottle of some sort of gunpowder.

“glad ya didn’t grab that. touch the wrong thing without gloves, and you could cause-stic some real caustic problemos for yourself.”

“I don’t exactly see you wearing gloves, either.”

“cause there’s somethin’ magical about these bones, protag. aside from the obvious, they can do this.” Sans takes your hand in the most casual way he could imagine, but no amount of relaxed intention can stop your cheeks from getting warmed up.

“see? magic.” He uses his other hand to flutter his fingers around, filling in every surface cliché on magic in the book. The chill of his hand pressed on your hand somehow flips a mental switch to get you all flustered up, directing a flicker of your eyesight down to Sans’ hipbones for a moment.

_“I want to feel those and help him unwind so bad…”_

There isn’t a gram of filter stopping yourself from thinking that, and you don’t think any grams in the beakers are holding onto that kind of restraint, either.

“oh, you can keep looking. i’ll be too busy with fizzy stuff to get fizzed up, and it’d be rude to tell an audience what to watch.” Darn. You hadn’t been quick enough.

“N-no, I don’t like them, I mean, I do like them, but-” Sans stands there, with his hand still in yours, but the smugness from the other nights isn’t there. He seems to be eagerly awaiting whatever you say.

“I’ve never seen you do science stuff like this before, and if my closest friend’s showing me one of his passions, that’s more important than any admittedly fine hips.” The blushing’s now mutual again, as hearing your quip and seeing you with that hat on are too much for him.

“glad ya think they’re fine. they do get washed one whole time a week, after all.”

“W-w-well, one’s all you need, don’t wanna bleach out perfection.”

What did you just say. Sans is trying to focus on his work, and now of all times is when the final splinters in your friendship filter are cracking to pieces. The same sort of internal presence you’d gotten the last couple times you were with him is flaring up again, almost like a heartbeat with its own pattern that you can’t ignore.

“glad i’m handsome enough for you and these hand-some hands of yours. hate to ask ya this, but i’ve gotta be all hands on deck to finish this thing. don’t want papyrus getting clammy palms waiting for me.”

“A-ah, right. Sorry to hold the process up, I… have fun being this close.” You quickly spring your fingers out of his grasp before you can have second thoughts, hoping you haven’t done too much to keep Sans from getting his focus back.

“if ya have fun here, then i better give ya a pretty darn explosive show. watch and learn, maybe you can pick up as fast as hot dogs, and we can have **the fireworks** next year.” With a sudden rush of focus to show him your level of care, you observe Sans rapidly get to work. He returns his attention to the gunpowder from earlier and pours it into a beaker with a bright purple liquid, setting off a little fizz that somehow smells like the perfume Brenda wears. As the mixture settles, Sans pours it along the inside of the cardboard in one quick swipe, with it somehow still being a mostly perfect line.

“can’t let it be all perfect. otherwise, there’s a 0.1% chance the firework could manifest into a calculus question. you wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy.” Instantly, your head snaps to those jerks that ended up in town months ago, but fighting fire with fire isn’t your cup of tea. Looking it over real fast and making sure the forecast shouldn’t have math noted on it, Sans gets back to his work, pouring dry powders and liquids together in a flurry. The lab begins to fill with a rainbow of dusts and smoke from all the reactions, but Sans assures you that you’ll be perfectly fine breathing around it.

“a lil magic’s never hurt a pair of lungs. i ain’t one to talk, but you’ll be a-ok.”

“I breathe-lieve in you.” Despite his chuckles, Sans’ flow doesn’t stop for a single second, as he continues to make colorful mixes and pour them into the cardboard. It must be enforced with something strong, because not a single bit of the oozing mix is leaking through. As the smell of Brenda’s perfume starts to dissipate, the corner of your eye catches the weird shape in the far corner of the room. There’s a purple sheet that’s covering some sort of unusual shape underneath. With how strong Sans is holding onto his pattern, you figure asking won’t stop much.

“Hey, Sans.”

“whassup, buddyo?”

“What’s that over th- sorry, you’re not in a spot be looking around. What’s that thing covered up in the corner?”

“oh, that. it’s, uh… something my dad and i started working on a long time ago. haven’t touched since he wasn’t ‘round to work on it anymore. wouldn’t go pokin’ around, ‘far as i know, it coulda grown sentient now and grown a craving for human fingers.”

“Uh oh, yeah, that’s not a beast I wanna awaken, then. Let me know if you ever finish whatever it is, I’d love to see some completed work of yours.”

“eh, i dunno if i’ve got the energy to fix that thing up again, but thanks. he’d be happy to know someone’s a fan of all those crumbled balls of paper and noodle cups we went through.” His work doesn’t slow down, but Sans’ smile seems to ease down a bit. The last thing you’d wanted to do is deck your mood, so you quickly try to read your heart for what you could stay to stop him from not being into the festivities later. It doesn’t take much searching for it to scream something out, and you follow suit.

“Of course, a brilliant mind of yours must have a bone-bardment of great plans. These rib-lliant ribs of yours are what’re making this thing that town’s gonna love, anyway.” You’re about to give his ribs a little shove, but think better of it when remembering the strength of what’s in his hands. You don’t stop soon enough for your hand to not make contact with his lab coat, though, leaving it sort of resting on its side, where you can feel his ribs underneath. Sans’ eye sockets open up a bit from the sort of touch it gives, which is far more sensual than any hug you’d had together. He doesn’t stop his work, but the blue that’s creeping back onto his cheeks and the growing, wobbly smile indicate some part of that worked. It won’t take long for the warmth and jitters to creep over you as well, so you pull the hand off before there’s anything he can notice. _You caressed his ribs, and he liked it…_

Sans mixes the rest of the chemicals with no rambunctious, renegade rib rubbing happening again. You’re continued to be amazed by how relaxed he his throughout, as he gently swings his arms around for each pour and chuckles about whatever jokes fall into either of your minds. Clearly, someone that’s able to do this with this much ease is an expert of their craft, so Sans must’ve worked at this a lot with his father. It brings you comfort to know that him and Papyrus had that sort of leadership during their upbringing. It’s not long before Sans has the entire mix ready in the cardboard, and he celebrates by taking one of the beakers with leftovers, and _drinking_ from it.

“Wh-”

“oh, forgot to warn ya about that. whoops. i’ll see if i can cover the heart palpitation bill.”

“No, no, I’m fine, but- are you gonna be?”

“oh, yeah, that was the stabilizer. all it does is make sure this thing erupts in a sphere, instead of some gross blob. tastes like limes. here, want some?” He hands the bottle your way, which still has enough for about a mouthful in it. It’s glowing orange, so you’re not exactly sure how it tastes like lime, but the fact it tastes like any fruit is impressive enough for that to not be a big deal. Anywhere on the surface, this would seem like a completely bonkers idea, but with how unstoppable your crush is for the skeleton facing you, you trust anything he’d offer.

“Why the heck not. If I don’t like the taste, I can say it was so last year pretty soon.”

“perfect.” You take the bottle from him, not having to rub any residue off from his non-existent lips, and pour it all down your throat in one go. Sans wasn’t lying about it tasting like limes, but it doesn’t have any of the sting, either. If this liquid’s powerful enough to stop a firework from erupting into a mess, it being strong enough to restrain bad parts of a taste makes enough sense. After taking the mouthful in, the beaker’s completely empty, so you look at Sans’ face through it, comically making his nose appear huge, before cautiously setting the glass down.

“were ya tryin’ to see if a another sneeze is brewin’ in there?”

“No, it’s not that, your nose hole just looks like a huge grape through that thing.”

“haven’t sneezed since ya unlocked that code last month. i could try again, but it wouldn’t be as fun without an audience.”

“If you can control your sneezing to be in front of an audience, then you’ve got some solid luck with that.” Sans pushes the rest of the glasses out of the way, and to your relief, none of them tip over. He then turns his attention to the firework itself, with his hands in a much more rigid and slower position than before. Pulling out the drawer by his hips, he takes a fuse rope and sticks it into the mix, hand-first. It might be unbearably hot for a human, but a skeleton can apparently get into it just fine. Once it’s lined up inside, he grabs a blow dryer and uses it to firm up the mix of chemicals, presumably so it can’t blow too soon. It all comes together to make a fairly secure state, before Sans proceeds to do what might be the slowest and most painstakingly-detail oriented thing you’ve ever seen him do. Grabbing the bottom end of the cardboard, he rolls it up to meet with the other end of the cardboard, like if someone took a poster and make a perfect circle out of the two ends.

“hey, protag. you could actually do a huge favor for me, if you’re down for the challenge.”

“What challenge did you have in mind?”

“could ya hold your thumbs down right here like i’m doin? don’t have the extra pair o’ hands to grab the tape, and i musta had a thick-skulled moment, ‘cause i didn’t grab it earlier.”

“Oh, sure thing.” Stepping close to Sans, you cautiously lay your thumbs to the side of his, and once yours are on, he slowly slips his off before reaching into the drawer on his right. He pulls out this electric tape that has a bone pattern on it, meaning Papyrus probably grabbed it at a store one day, and a pair of scissors to cut it with. Snipping a couple pieces, he stretches them across the area between your thumbs to seal the circle in place.

“ok, you can let go now.” You’re still cautious about it, but you take your thumbs off of the firework, and the tape proves to be strong enough to hold it together.

“thanks, bud. if that thing broke apart, we’d be startin’ all over, and my brother would be the one exploding. doubt that’s what the people came to see.”

“Not at all. Those tall bones of his deserve to all be together.” With that, The Firework is all but complete. Sans takes this plastic piece with a hole for the fuse in it and sticks in the bottom end, and then sticks a little cone on top to help it glide. Now that the cardboard’s not inside out anymore, you can see that the completed product’s entirely red, aside from the black and white bone pattern on the electrical tape. It’s like something you’d see in a cartoon show, capturing the ‘looks can be deceiving’ atmosphere the name gives.

“Looks wonderful, dude. You did such a clean job, and made it look as simple as folding laundry.”

“you ain’t talking to the right person ‘bout folding laundry, but thanks.” Sans picks up The Firework and holds it between you and him, spinning it around to make sure there’s no blemishes.

“Excellent stuff. You really were in your _element_ with that.”

“pffff, suppose so. that’s the easy stuff, reason i got so fossil’d up at the end was for how neat this thing is. you know i ain’t the most down to the details person, but i want my bro to have the best kaboom possible for this.”

“Dawww, I can tell how much it means to you to see his big moment.”

“yup. he’s the coolest, and deserves every second of attention town can give him tonight. this thing’s the least i can do.”

“Mind if I feel it a bit?”

“sure thing, ‘long as your fingers aren’t burning as hard as your cheeks were earlier.” You let out a sarcastic groan, knowing he’s not gonna let that go. Setting your own hands on The Firework, you can tell the contents have gotten it fairly warm inside, but not enough to combust at any moment. There’s still some fear of doing something wrong to it, though, so you keep your hands fairly still…

…leaving Sans with the opportunity to strike.

He creeps his fingers closer, and “pretends” to brush them up with yours.

“whoops, my bad. didn’t hit the brakes fast enough for the speed bump.”

“O-oh, speeding’s no good, knew someone that got a ticket once.” The senses from his unexpected touch completely threw you off from trying to make sense of what to say. He completely reads through that, too, and continues to jump on it.

“you’re right, a new year’s ticket wouldn’t be any fun. guess i gotta take it slow ‘n steady.” He slowly pushes his hands up to drift across yours to get to the middle, and his long fingers poke at the hairs on your wrists in doing so. You’re completely speechless throughout, and as immobile as an actual speed bump. Eventually, when his hands have made it over yours and are now meeting in the middle, you’re able to get the energy to turn your head up, and see what’s perhaps the slyest grin that’s ever crept onto his lovely face. When Sans notices that your eye contact’s met up with him, though, he shakes his head, and the look evaporates. It’s like… like… the mere sight of you frozen up was enough to get him going.

“…eheheh… we better bring this kablasto up to my brother. that explosion i told ya about earlier might not be a myth if we’re down here much longer.”

“…Y-yeah. I figure there’s still a ways for him to go. This is great stuff you did, pal.” You pry your hands off of the firework and pat his shoulder, and he hands you The Firework to hold onto, while he takes his lab coat off to put his hoodie back on. The little jiggle his shoulders do show how at home he is in it. Once he’s put it back on, you hand it back to him so you’re not taking credit for any work, and you leave the lab with him, while shutting the door behind you. The steps are still slippery, but you watch Sans’ feet to see how he steps up. If he can get up this ice in slippers, you can sure do the same in boots, and manage to get up without trouble. As you and Sans round the turn to get to the front door, you see that the crowd’s multiplied at least eightfold, with the swarm of guests around the tree, as well as Papyrus leaving through the front, with a box of fireworks in his hands.

“hey, bro. we popped your popper into existence.”

“THERE YOU ARE, BROTHER! THE FESTIVITIES ARE STARTING IN HALF AN HOUR, I WAS BEGINNING TO HOPE YOU HADN’T PASSED OUT DOWN THERE.”

“Nah, he was working really hard. I was impressed from start to end with just how easy he made it all look. Your brother’s got a smarty skull.”

“AH, HE CERTAINLY DOES. IF THERE’S ANYONE I’D TRUST TO BUILD SOMETHING THAT COULD SET OFF THE MOST COLORFUL FOREST FIRE IN THE WRONG HANDS, IT’S HIM.” From your duo of compliments, you can hear a bit of rattling, and a glance leftward lets you see the shake he’s got going in his hand. You decide to press it farther.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way myself. There might not be any meat on him, but he’s got the juiciest mind in that noggin of his.”

“OH, CERTAINLY THE JUICIEST. JUST AS JUICY AS THAT APPLE JUICE I’D PUT IN HIS LUNCH BOX.” Taking another look at Sans, his cheeks are flooding up fast, and his whole arm seems to be getting shakes, as he reaches out to Papyrus’ box to set the firework in.

“You’d pack Sans’ lunch for work?”

“OH, YES. UP UNTIL THE LAST DAY AT OUR STATIONS. IT WAS THE CUTEST THING HE USED TO USE.”

“p-papy, no-”

“WHAT? DID YOU REALLY NOT WANT TELL PROTAG YET THAT YOUR LUNCH BOX HAD THOSE LITTLE SPACE SHIPS AND PIZZAS ON IT?”

“g-gh-” Sans looks at you with no grin whatsoever. It’s by far the most embarrassed you’ve ever seen him, and his bone clanks continue to get louder. To you, though, it’s far from something he should be embarrassed for, and you don’t hold back in telling him.

“Sans, that’s really, really adorable. So many people wean off from fun lunch boxes, but yours stuck to what your soul calls for. It’s not cheesy at all, no matter how much cheese that pizza has. If you still have it around, I’d love to see it, cause it’d make me think of how happy you’d be opening it up.” Sans’ bone clanking is louder than you’d thought was capable, and the expression on his face now seems frozen shut, aside from his pupils shrinking to the point where they look like grains of rice. One way or another, what you’d just said hit very deeply.

“protag, you might wanna get inside. don’t need your muscles freezing up before the show. i’ve gotta… talk to my brother for a bit.” He turns his eye contact towards his brother, who looks down at the whole situation with a bit of an awkward smile. Whatever’s going on, you don’t want to ruin the flow of the party preparation or whatever’s on Sans’ mind, so you nod in agreement and step inside. Rocko gets a long rub before you plop down on the couch.

What was that about? Sans seemed real nervous about the memory of his lunch box, for some reason, and you decided to be honest on how sweet that sounded. Either that hit him in a perfect way, or an awful one. Rubbing him the wrong way on the night of his brother’s big festival is the absolute last thing you’d want to do, so you hope with every inch of your body that it wasn’t the latter. With nothing else to do, you stay seated at the couch and nervously rub at the wrist hairs that Sans had touched earlier.

There really is no way around thinking about him, is there?

A good five minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of either of them coming in. Papyrus seemed really pushed to get after his setup, so whatever this is, it’s something really important. For a flash moment, you consider putting your ear up to the wall, but that’d be way too close to snooping, and had all the possibilities of going wrong. Rather than doing that, then, you keep your distance at the couch and try to make out what sort of sounds you can make from it. You’re not hearing any voices that sound like Papyrus, and Sans…

Sans sounds really nervous about something.


	25. The Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Firework's been made, the warm moments have been had, and the blushes have come around enough times. Tonight's finally going to be the night you let it all out to Sans... as long as your insides don't have an earthquake first, from all the nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The embedded art in this chapter is from the amazing merrylenny01 on tumblr! Thank you so much for making it!

**Chapter 25 – The Countdown  
**

While you can’t make out the words, the tones you’re hearing come from Sans outside of the house are ones you hadn’t heard from him since you’d learned of his nightmares. There’s a wavering uncertainty to it, bouncing between thoughtful and shakey. It’s moving around too much for you to get much of an idea of where his mood is, but whatever it may be, you deeply hope it’s not something that’ll bother him for the rest of the night. New Year’s doesn’t come around all that often, and you really don’t want to have said something that’ll keep him from taking in his brother’s experience.

Admittedly, wishful thinking makes you think back to the trend of how you’d been feeling together throughout the day. Between ‘accidentally’ feeling his ribs, and the way he rubbed over your hands when you were checking out The Firework together, some truly magical bits had already happened tonight. To top it off, judging by how flustered up he got each time, it didn’t seem like you were the only one enjoying it. If what’d just happened outside hadn’t happened, you’d be inclined to think there’s a chance he could be talking with his brother about some of the same things you were… well, maybe not to the same extent as you. Sans’ thoughts aren’t something you can nor would break into, and even if they were the same, you can’t see what just happened getting it any farther. It sounds like that lunch box was something he wanted to keep internal, and sharing all your thoughts on it probably didn’t help that. All that warm bonding you’d been yearning for, gone down the drain…

Or is it?

Sans’ apparent excitement flares up, and he’s not as quiet anymore. There’s a few words that you’re able to make out, and as tempting as getting closer to the wall is, you stay on the couch to listen. You’re hearing things like ‘time’, ‘dream’, and the occasional ‘sodium chloride’, but nothing’s long enough for you to make much sense out of it. Your heart starts picking up its pace a bit, running through all the possibilities of what this could mean, but after about another minute of this, Sans’ voice suddenly stops. All you can hear is the distant chatter coming from the middle of town, and if it was any other night, it’d get you thinking about what’s to come for the festivities. Tonight certainly isn’t like any other night, though-

“I SEE. YOU’VE HIT AFFECTION OVERLOAD. I’D GET YOU A BACK SCRATCHER TO DEAL WITH THE TINGLES, BUT I DON’T THINK THAT WORKS ON THE INSIDE.”

**Oh.**

You know Papyrus wouldn’t intentionally share around what his brother’s feeling, but given his naturally loud voice, he’s already let something real important get out… not that you’re complaining. Getting a bit of a nervous shake in your hands, you continue to listen, while staring at Rocko to give your eyes some emotional support. Sans speaks up again, and the only thing you can make out is ‘beach ball’, so you hope whatever context that has is good.

“IT IS A WONDERFUL FEELING. JUST LIKE THAT SORT OF SMACK, BUT WITHOUT ALL THE SAND.” Well, that explain that.

“YOU’VE NEVER SHOWN INTEREST IN THIS SORT OF THING BEFORE. I CAN TELL HE’S DONE SOMETHING TO YOU THAT YOU’VE NEVER HAD TO DECODE.” Sans’ hushed voice perks up again, and you find yourself on the edge of the couch, despite that meaning you’re farther away from the door.

“OH, DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT AT ALL! I’M HONORED MY SPECTACULAR CAN BE A SPECTACULAR SETTING, AND IT MEANS YOU WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT GOING HUNGRY DURING THE BIG QUESTIONS. CATERING A BEATING SOUL’S VERY IMPORTANT, AFTER ALL.” Big questions? You’re not sure what he means, but judging by the sweet chuckle that comes through the wall in response, that got Sans happy enough.

“I’M SURE HE’S PROUD. YOU MAY HAVE NEVER WORKED WITH HUMAN COMPASSION IN THAT LAB OF YOURS, BUT YOU KNOW HE’D WANT HIS FAVORITE SCIENCE PARTNER TO BE AT PEACE OF MIND. DOPAMINE’S QUITE THE IMPORTANT CHEMICAL, AFTER ALL. BESIDES, WHEREVER HE IS, IF HE FINDS OUT, I’M SURE IT’LL BE SOMETHING FOR HIM TO JOT INTO HIS RECORDS.” Must be about their father. If this talk is what you’re beginning to strongly think it is, and Sans is wanting to dump out the same sorts of thoughts that you are, you do hope that you’re someone that their father would’ve thought his oldest son would be in good hands with. Your hands don’t float, so you’re at least sure you don’t have any traits that’d look like trying to one-up him.

“I DO APPRECIATE THAT YOU STILL WANT TO SPEND THE SAME TIME WITH ME, NO MATTER WHAT, BUT DON’T LOSE SLEEP OVER IF YOU EVER GO OFF WITH HIM SOMEWHERE. I WEAR THIS CAPE WITH PRIDE, AND THEREFORE, I MUST BE WILLING TO KEEP BUSY, AND DEFEND THE HOMESTEAD FROM ANY BONE COLLECTION THIEVES. THE DOGS MIGHT TRY TO TAKE THEIR HOLIDAY ANGER OUT ON IT.” You can hear his cape flapping from through the window.

The thought of you ending up together more with Sans meaning he might have less brother time twinges your gut a bit, and the uncertainty about your future doesn’t make that any easier, but the strange internal buzzing that’d happened the last couple times you were with Sans begins to pick up again, and something about it assures you that everything will be alright. You’re almost too focused on it to keep paying attention to the conversation, but Papyrus speaks up again.

“I LOVE YOU, TOO, BROTHER. SEEING MY OLDER BROTHER FOLLOW HIS HEART AND SOUL TRULY BRINGS ME JOY.” Sans talks once more, and his apparent excitement about what he’s saying is too much for him to keep it quiet.

“yup. with his flesh, and my brilliant humor, we’ll be the meatiest burger with the crummiest jokes.”

“OH MY GOD!! WE’RE HAVING THIS HEARTFELT TALK, AND THAT’S THE DIRECTION YOU TAKE IT?”

“heheh, just had to prove he’s not ruining your free comedy supply, bro.” He quiets down again.

“DON’T KID YOURSELF, BROTHER, I STILL LOVE YOU. I MUST RETURN TO MY WORK, BUT I’M CERTAIN YOU’LL HIT THE NAIL ON THE PROVERBIAL HEAD! NYEH HEH!” His boots can be heard scurrying away, and your ears tune back into the crowd. It keeps getting louder, meaning the final wave of guests must be arriving, but it’d take a sound around the volume of a jet blasting off to get your mind to focus on it. The talk Sans just had with Papyrus feels a lot like the one you had, even if you couldn’t make out all the details. Any moment now, he’s going to come inside, and you’ve got no clue how or when to address it. After a tense minute, the door behind you creaks open, and you turn around to see Sans shakily walk in, as if the cold was something that could bother him. You clear your throat and do your best to hide any nerves.

“Hey again, Sans. Glad you and your brother found more time to talk, with how busy he is.”

“h-heya. yeah, i dunno how he made the time for that. guess he’s settin’ it all up faster than his bed.”

“His bed?”

“yup. didja not hear about his racecar bed? he’s reaching break-vertebrae speeds each night in his dreams.”

“I’m sure he finishes in first place each time.”

“of course. all the other racers feel red in the head, watching that red cape of his flap ahead.” Despite his words coming out as planned, Sans still has a shaky pace, as he walks to the couch and plops down on the other end. They might not be as loud as when you were discussing the lunch box, but you can still hear his bones rattling.

“How’re you f, feeling about the event?”

“uh oh, you’re stuttering f again. do i hafta go make more positivity punch?”

“Haha, no thanks, I’m not feeling sick…” You say the next part really quietly, unsure if you want him to hear or not.

“…and I’d especially never be sick of you.”

He hears it. The blue that you’ve now become very familiar with works back onto his cheeks, and seeing his arms squirm up the way they do sets it off for you as well. If Brenda was here, she’d probably shout for you to go all in already, but you know inside that you want this to last.

“…heheh, real funny, bud. you really know how to press the button to get me all colored up. maybe i could mix it with the fried snow business, and start sellin’ fried snowcones.”

“Sounds like water, but I’d still support your business.”

“oh, it’s way more than that. pay the 5000g fee someday, and i’ll give ya the answer.” Sans winks, always managing to lighten the mood in doing so, and goes back to his earlier point.

“anyhoo, i’m sure my brother’s gonna knock this outta the park. firework’s done, so i’m glad he’s got his big showstarter.”

“Wonder why he doesn’t wanna end the show with it.”

“brought that up, but he went off on his facts and said it’s the best way to get attention, so i’m not gonna be the one to tell him n... n… no…” Sans slows down, and you’re not sure why. You’ve got perfect eye contact with each other going, and you hadn’t thought your eyes are nice enough to set something off, but apparently, they are.

“i think there’s something we’ve gotta have a chat about, bud.” He knows it, and you know it. Waiting another minute would feel like a constant puncture wound. It can’t be held off any longer.

“…You’re right. We do.” You breath in and roll your shoulders out, to let out any tension that might be building up, and Sans seems to do the same thing. His smile’s still there, but it’s shifting far more than usual.

“so, uh… i… i’ve never had to talk ‘bout something like this. sorry if i sound like a fuzzy radio station.”

“It-It’s no worries at all, Sans. Be as fuzzy of a radio station as you want to be.” You’re not sure how well that landed, but it was the best mood lightening you could think of.

“heheh, i’ll try to not getcha all static. anyways, back when we were caressing the firework like a couple o’ fools, did you… erm…” Sans stops, and you can see him tapping his thumb bones together, trying to figure out what to say.

“feel some sorta vibration inside your chest? sorta like the sound of a lawnmower, but goin’ off inside you?”

“I hadn’t compared it to that, but… yes. Yes, I did.”

“phew, that’s a relief. if i’d been the only one, this talk woulda gotten real awkward.”

Sans just shared that his soul buzzes as well when you’re together, in the most Sans way possible. No buildup, no stutter, just powered right through it. It takes a few seconds to really kick in, but when it does, some lingering buzzing returns, along with a faster heartbeat.

“G-geez… we both get that feeling, then.”

“yup. i dunno how much of a bookworm you are, protag, but that’s what a soul does when it’s near a soul they care for a lot. when stuff like holding a firework together like a couple of weirdos happens, it picks up that touch, and… does that. magic’s weird.”

“It might be weird, but it’s a great weird. When a couple human friends get together like that, they don’t get that sort of feeling. Must be all of that compassion that runs through you.”

“i do my best to keep that compassion healthy. i feed it and take it on walks.”

“I hope Rocko’s not jealous for the last part.”

“hey, are you judging how i take care of my pet?” He makes a face that’s pretty easy to tell is a façade, but you go with it anyway.

“Oh, no, no, not at all. I’d never be sour on your pet care habits, Rocko looks perfectly healthy.” As you take another glimpse towards Rocko, you notice that somehow, some of the load of sprinkles that’d been on them earlier is gone. You know to accept all of Sans’ amazing quirks without question, but Rocko being able to do that is something you’re definitely gonna have to ask about, when a better time comes.

“heh, just ribbing ya. you’re their fave human, by far. i don’t wanna need a leash to get back to the point, though.” He closes his eye sockets, and rolls his shoulders again.

“that buzzing’s something i’ve never felt before. i’ve always felt it for my dad, when he was around, and my brother, but it’s something reserved for outside family bonds. i’ve never felt this close of a bond with someone, either. i’m sure you can connect the dots for where this is going.” You can.

“S-so… you feel something around me that you’ve never have around other people?”

“yup. i dunno what did it. could be your warm demeanor, your dorky puns, your hug stats, that face of yours, or lotsa other things. i won’t make ya listen to an essay, though.”

“Share things however you want, Sans. If you want it to let out those science roots by talking about it like it’s an essay, I’ll gladly be your _pupil_.” Sans laughs and covers his mouth, despite it always being closed. It’s the little things like that that get your soul going the most.

“but… uh… yeah. didn’t know if anyone would ever crack my code, i don’t even know the combination. seems like you do, though, protag. the way you’re always open to my jokes, my thoughts, my weird tangents about hot dog production… they’re things that people don’t always appreciate, especially when i was up at the surface. i’m not gonna make ya listen to this fart farting around about the past, but a lotta the humans i met thought i never take things seriously enough.” He closes his eyes again.

“but then you came around. i’d never gotten this much trust in a human since the ambassador, and those kind folk that gave me a place to stay when i first moved up, but you entered the picture and raised the bar so high, it shattered. yer always wanting to take things day by day, and never plan rigid things out, which i’d seen way too much of in the bonds around me up there. people with an attitude like yours are rare, and finding a dork that agrees with me for this stuff is rarer.” Sans’ left hand begins to squeeze the couch cushion to let off energy, and he stops speaking. With how long the pause is, you figure now’s the right time to strike with how you feel.

“Why wouldn’t I like any of that, Sans? Your traits are miles better than anything I could’ve ever asked for. I never thought I’d end up in this close of a bond with a skeleton, let alone one that masters hot dogs, comedy, and being so, so, so lovely, all at the same time. You don’t know how much I look forward to seeing my best bones, whenever the chance comes.”

“**best** bones?”

“Well, your brother’s also an amazing set of bones, but yeah, best bones all the way.” Hearing your acknowledging of his brother lights up a smile on Sans’ face, as the earlier nerves seem to be letting off a bit. He gets up from the couch and sits back down closer to you, so you’re not as distant, before getting back into his own words.

“you… you really are some unique kinda weirdo, aren’t you?”

“Depends. 3000G for the next weirdo fact.” Sans laughs and closes his eye sockets.

“learning sales from the best. proud of ya.” He scooches back deeper into the cushions, suddenly not having any words again. When he opens his eye sockets again, he’s looking down at his hands, with a sort of reserved smile. It takes everything you have to not grab at the hand right now, but you hold back, to let him finish whatever his thought may be.

“…so, you’re probably wondering why i put you through that whole sop fest.”

“Sans, if that was a sop fest, it deserves the best ratings in the history of TV. What’s the big reason, though?” You find yourself fidgeting your hands around, not sure where Sans is going with this.

“…well, i can’t hide why all those hats are in pairs anymore. guess i ain’t great with secrets. since this is a big party my brother’s got going, guests are encouraged to bring their own party pal, but i don’t have one… i’ve never had one, come to think of it, i’m quite the goof...” He shakes his head and makes firm eye contact.

“sorry, sop show wanted an encore. anyway, urm… wanna be my first?” If you hadn’t been sitting down on the couch already, that would’ve knocked you right off your feet. Being asked to be someone’s Party Pal is a big, big deal; it’s effectively the Underground equivalent of someone not wanting to go to a prom alone. If you’re asked to be a Party Pal, the other person in question feels something real special for you, one way or another.

“…Of all the p-people you wanna be your first Party Pal, it’s me?”

“yup. only the best dork could win that honor.” He winks, and you’re almost on the verge of tears. It’d be the easiest yes you’ve ever said in your life.

“Of course I’d love to be your Party Pal! I hope I can do the role justice, especially since I’ve never been somewhere where I was surrounded by that.”

“oh, it’s real easy. saying yes to a dork like me’s the hard part. all ya gotta do now is put up with me the rest of the night. if ya want, i can grab a get outta jail free card from the ice-e’s monopoly board we got here. ‘board game fun for the whole family’.”

“They really licensed themselves to board games, too? Didn’t think a talking ice cube with a dog face would play the game of capitalism this much.”

“yup. aren’t you so glad ya chose to live down here and deal with that?”

“Yes.” The emotions running through your head are going faster than your ability to pick up sarcasm, so you don’t realize what he meant until that came out of his mouth.

“U-uh, I mean no, I mean yes, I-” Having tortured you long enough, Sans takes _your_ hand this time without expectation, cutting you off instantly.

“don’t need ya sounding like a broken record, protag. there’s enough in the closet like that. c’mon, festival’s starting soon, and we’ve got front row tickets.” He leads you towards the door, with him being the one pulling you somewhere being a feeling you’re sure not used to yet, but one you’d gladly learn. Your open hand gives Rocko a thank you wave for the earlier comfort, before the door swings back shut.

Turning your sight away from the doorframe, you’re given a good look at what kind of crowd Papyrus got for his festival. It looks like something out of a huge concert on the surface; monsters are standing shoulder to shoulder, leaving you feeling fairly bad for the ones that’re stuck looking at the butt of another. Despite the differences in height, you’re hearing nothing but excited chatter, except from the quickly noticed **Jerry**, who’s fortunately standing in the very back. A rough look makes you figure there’s a good several hundred in the crowd, but rather than pushing yourselves into it, Sans pulls you closer towards the front.

From the blur of the crowd, you almost don’t put together how surreal this all is. Sans, the skeleton you once had to work through horrible dreams to hold the hand of, is now holding your hand on his own doing. You really hope you’re not imposing anything on him, but from the happy, sly grin he gives when he looks back every now and then to make sure you’re still in one piece, you’ve got nothing. He leads you to the closest row in the crowd, where Papyrus is rapidly gesturing towards the two of you.

“THERE YOU TWO ARE! I SEE YOU’VE MADE THE PARTY PAL DEAL OFFICIAL. THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE MAKES ME SEE YOU DIDN’T TAKE A MOMENT TO THINK ABOUT YOUR HAT, THOUGH, BROTHER. FORTUNATELY FOR YOU, I WAS PREPARED FOR THIS.” Turning around, Papyrus grabs a simple white hat that says “sans.” in some sort of mysterious red liquid, but instead of handing it to him, he hands it to you instead.

“HERE, PROTAG. SANS GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN FROM PUTTING THE HAT ON YOU, SO YOU GET TO GET UNDER HIS BONES BY DOING THE SAME. SOUNDS LIKE A FAIR TRADE TO ME.” Knowing there’s no point in resisting, Sans chuckles to himself a bit, shrugs, and makes one of the droopiest bows you’ve ever seen, to let you get the hat on. Papyrus makes a strong point about the word ‘official’; this is one of, if not the first official thing you and Sans have ever done. Given how the two of you operate best, you hope that won’t be common, but for tonight, you’ll make a welcome exception. Wrapping the string from the hat under his round chinbone, you make sure your fingers brush up with what you figure the sensitive points of it are.

“protag, that’s clear battery you just performed. gonna hafta call the authorities on new year’s, of all times. what a bummer.” Sans pulls his phone out of his pocket, and pretends to tap a number, before showing you the screen. All he did was write ‘T U R D’. You couldn’t be luckier with who your Party Pal is.

“YOU TWO ARE WEIRD! A SWEET DIVERSION OF WEIRD! HAVE FUN WITH YOUR WEIRDNESS, WHILE I GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD.” Backing away, Papyrus grabs a megaphone that’s resting by the wooden fence, and stands on a box that he’s using for a pedestal. He pushes a button in and speaks into it, making his articulate, already loud voice ring out over the whole town, and perhaps into the surrounding towns as well.

“GREETINGS, RESIDENTS AND GUESTS OF SNOWDIN! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND I **HUMBLY** WELCOME YOU ALL TO OUR TRANQUIL TOWN!!” The emphasis that Papyrus puts on ‘humbly’ after calling himself great makes you and and Sans chuckle; not in a way that’s looking down on him at all, but more of an ‘Oh, you’.

“NOW THAT THE PESKY FORMALITIES ARE OUT OF THE WAY, I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A MARVELOUS TIME TONIGHT! I’M CERTAIN THIS WILL BE A SPECTACULAR YOU’LL NEVER, EVER FORGET. NOW, WHO’S HUNGRY??” Looking behind you, you see an eager wave of party hats rustling around, seemingly real hungry and ready to devour whatever’s available. With no food in sight, though, you’re not sure how this is going to work.

“WELL, WAIT NO MORE! UNTIL IT’S YOUR TURN, THAT IS.” Without another word, Papyrus pushes back the fence, revealing a wide array of trays of food, with another wooden fence behind it. There’s more kinds of spaghetti than you’d ever seen in one place before, some of which have been unheard of, like the one that’s just full of huge noodles that you’d have the appetite to eat _one_ of. Large plates of breadsticks and other Italian specialties round out the display, along with a set of drinks… one of which is a glowing blue vat, with a card that says ‘positivity punch’ under it, written in comic sans.

“…Sans, how long did that-”

“you don’t wanna know. you’d do a huge spittake all over my hat, and who wants that?” Managing to throw all surface ethics out the window, you’re astonished at how much… effort Sans must have gone through to make that much of the drink come into existence.

“NOW, FRONT ROW FIRST, AND WE’LL ALL GO FROM THERE!” Papyrus dramatically poses at the front row of the crowd, and the row eagerly presses forward. Sans does, too, without taking a minute to realize he’s leaving you behind, so you quickly catch up. No matter how hungry this crowd is, they all seem willing to follow a row by row system to get their food. You’re relieved there’ll be no mass chaos to rain on Papyrus’ parade- and, hopefully, no surprise blizzards to rain on it, either. There’s stacks of easy-to-recycle paper plates, since Papyrus admirably believes that cool dudes only live environmentally resourceful lives. You grab one and load it up with all the types of spaghetti you can see, without even needing a word of Sans’ encouragement.

“thanks for giving it all a shot. guess you’ve gotten front row previews to some-a this stuff. hope you’re ready for a bill in the mail soon.” Indeed, the chocolate spaghetti from sometime prior has returned, with a darker and even gooier vengeance than last time. Admittedly, the dark chocolate had worked its way to your smile a lot when you’d last had it, so you go for more of that kind than any of the others, grab a fork and some positivity punch, and go to town. While you return to the front row and Papyrus directs the one behind yours to come up next, you quickly get to devouring all of what’s on your plate, and Sans does the same, slurping noodles between his teeth.

“So…” Sans has another mouthful, so you wait for him to finish first. “…this is what Party Pals do? Watch each other eat spaghetti in their own ways?”

“yup. usually, it’s fries, but my brother works so hard at his cooking that it breaks the rules.”

“I can see why, this is really good stuff.” You’re not stretching it; this is definitely the best Papyrus’ cooking has ever been, at least from what you’ve tried. It doesn’t seem like you’re the only one enjoying it, either; there’s plenty of audible mmm’s coming from each group that gets their helping. Your biggest focus is your Party Pal, but you take the occasional look over at Papyrus, and the gleaming smile on his face lets you know he’s absorbing every moment of this. It’s not long before there’s only a few noodles left on Sans’ plate.

“uh oh. guess i ran through the entertainment too quick.”

“Entertainment?”

“yeah, ya kept watching my mouth like it’s some kinda freak show. i dunno what’s so interesting ‘bout it.” On cue, he grabs another noodle with his fingers and shoots it through his teeth, without acknowledging the… uniqueness of how he eats. You’ve known him well over four months now, so it’s not a surprise, but your heart still gets the same thought process of ‘Woah’, then ‘Dawwww’, each time. After enough noodles, though, Sans stops looking back at you, and his attention turns more towards the drink in your hand.

“ya better believe in it again. if you loved my spit as much as ya did when you were sick, you’ve gotta still love it now.” Even with the context being completely different from what you have in mind, hearing ‘love’ come out of Sans’ skull is still enough to get you distracted. When you eventually do regain focus, you assure Sans that you’ll get the full positivity from the drink. The longer you get into the dinner, the more the lingering thoughts of ages have been coming back, especially with _Sans_ being the one to ask about being Party Pals, but you’ll do your best to shelter those thoughts away. Affirming to yourself the same way you did when you were sick that you believe in the punch, you take your first sip, and the punch instantly believes in you once again. One mouthful is enough for your internal confidence to spring out more, and it doesn’t take long for Sans to notice the growing grin on your face.

“only the best, from yours truly. hey, do you wanna have the deluxe version?”

“Sure!” You hand Sans the drink, and as you’re expecting, he spits into it, giving you a fruiter cup than anyone else’s. Sans and Papyrus are the only skeletons you notice around, so no one else is gonna enjoy it straight from the source quite like yourself. His addition makes the drink all the better, and you practically chug your way through the delectable blue raspberry ride.

You’re not sure how much of it is from the punch itself, or being a notch up the joy meter, watching Sans laugh as you drink his fruitful spit, but the thought of going full blown tonight with how you feel seems a lot easier to decide on. He invited you to be his Party Pal, and with how jittery you’re each getting from merely brushing each other’s faces, the love tester from that one Mettaton Movie would probably decide your crush levels are each around 100 percent. Before tonight, you wouldn’t have tried to speak in Sans’ place for that, but now, between the talk you heard and how he’s being tonight, it couldn’t mean anything else. If only the festival had something to do that wouldn’t make such a big thing to drop so alarming…

“WELL! I SEE YOU HAVE ALL GOTTEN YOUR FAIR SHARE OF THE FINEST SPAGHETTI YOU’LL EVER SEE! I THANK YOU FOR SAVING SOME, THE SNOWMAN WILL BE VERY DELIGHTED BY YOUR GENEROSITY.” Sans had once mentioned a talking snowman in passing conversation, and you’ve had enough Underground experience to first think about being glad he’s included than anything the surface would call more ‘practical’ to ask, like _how_ he’s alive. Papyrus follows up with saying he has a ‘FANTASTIC NEXT PART’ ready for everyone when their food’s done, as you and Sans happen to be some of the first to wrap up. Your Party Pal doesn’t drink any of the Positivity Punch himself, saying he’d be ‘hogging all the juicy fun’ from the rest of the crowd, as you give a playful little shove while recycling your plate and cup. The back of the crowd still has to feast away on the rest of their spaghetti, and you’re not sure how long Jerry’s gonna take, so you share some chatter with your skeleton buddy during the wait.

“Hey, Sans.”

“whaddup?”

“I know there’s no real weather down here, but how’d your brother make sure snow isn’t gonna pound down on us tonight?”

“he didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“yup. no one could. the great dandruff from the sky decides whenever the heck it wants to come down.”

“With no ill intention, Sans, how’d you learn about dandruff?”

“when your former coworkers have hair from head to toe, you learn a **lot** you’d rather not know. don’t make me dig the flea crisis back out of my skull.”

“Sounds like you just did that to yourself.”

“oh. well, uh, now you can imagine town being called dandruffin. eye for an eye socket.” As he winks once more, you realize just how accurate his comparison is as you look over the ground, and realize it’s gonna take a long while to get _that_ visual out of your head.

“What a thoughtful New Year’s gift.”

“only the best from yours… *burp*… truly.” Everything tonight has nothing to do with conventional ‘going out’ standards, and you love it. This sort of festival’s the perfect chance for everyone to embrace the sort of habits that Sans follows every day. None of the other guests have a party hat on that’s as cute as his, though, and certainly none of them have a face nearly as cute as those eye sockets and ends of his grin are…

Crap. Your face is burning harder for him than ever before. You really aren’t the best at covering this up, apparently.

“uh oh, protag, ya gettin’ sick on me again? there’s plenty of positivity punch left, but it ain’t a miracle product.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not sick at all. I could never be sick of how friggin cute that look of yours is-”

**How and why did you say that out loud?**

Sans can’t hold it in himself now, either. Flushing with cyan, he looks down at his slippers, and it looks like he’s about to come up with a retort, when Papyrus’ voice suddenly fills your ears again.

“OKAY, LOOKS LIKE THE EATING’S ALL BEEN SETTLED! I’M GLAD THAT YOUR STOMACHS ARE ALL FILLED AND SMILING… FIGURATIVELY.” If it was anyone else talking over a megaphone this close, the noise might be too much, but Papyrus gives enough charisma for it to be more than tolerable.

“NOW! IF YOU’RE WEARING SHOES, I HOPE THEY’RE GOOD FOR DANCING, AND IF YOU’RE NOT WEARING SHOES, I SURE HOPE YOU DON’T STUB ANY TOES. IT’S TIME FOR WHAT ANY FESTIVAL, AS PROVEN BY MY MANY BOOKS I’VE READ, NEEDS FOR MAXIMUM ENJOYMENT… SPONTANEOUS DANCING!!”

It sounds like that’s definitely hitting close to home for the crowd, judging by the roar of cheers, and the field of party hats that’re bouncing from excitement when you look back. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of audio equipment behind Papyrus, though, so you’re not sure where this music’s gonna come from… until he puts his skull up to the next wooden fence, seemingly waiting for something.

“…AAAAAAND NOW!!” He pushes the fence down, and behind it is a field of echo flowers, now loudly shouting a funky song. One way or another, he must’ve brought them over from Waterfall. Behind them is yet another wooden fence, which must be hiding another part of the festivities, but for now, the music is all that matters. You don’t recognize the beat, so it might be an Underground song, but the crowd certainly does. They begin to jump and shift around with the melody, no matter what size and shape they may be. Before you know it, you find yourself doing the best to keep up with them, even if you can’t tell what’s coming next.

Your mind takes off to cloud… eight. Nine sounds like it should be reserved for something really, really important, but this is definitely an eight. The party’s turned into something of a concert atmosphere, as you let the music take you along, without fighting it.

It takes a couple minutes, though, for you to realize that Sans hasn’t moved an inch. You slow up your jumping, and see that he’s standing by your side with a bit of a nervous smile. You’re not sure if it has to do with your slip up earlier, but the blush is gone.

“C’mon, Sans! You gotta move around with me to this! If everyone else knows this song, you’ve surely gotta know it, too!” You can feel a bit of a sweat working its way down your forehead and chest already, despite the cold, but it’s not enough to slow your enthusiasm at all. Sans doesn’t seem to share the same thoughts on it, though.

“no, it’s good. you keep jumpin’ along.”

“You sure? New Year’s only comes once a year!”

“nah, it’s fine. i’d rather watch you and all the others have fun. it’s like a tv show, but with the volume up the whole way. gotta love this newfangled 4d.” He seems fairly certain, and you see it best not to push it. You go back to your dancing ways, but Sans’ lack of interest in dancing’s crept its way up your mind, too. If it’s not his thing, it’s not his thing, but it’d be a form of excitement you’d never seen from him before. As the Echo Flowers wrap up their booming of the first song, you really hope he changes his mind at some point.

The flowers continue to work their way through their set, covering all sorts of genres, some of which are your favorites. Not an ounce of energy from the crowd lets up, as they seem to bound and bound with an unrelenting amount of passion for the night. Whatever Papyrus spent all that time calculating has worked to the finest detail, as this is a sort of jubilance that you hadn’t seen monsters express before, and that really is saying something. Sans continues to watch you, and you make sure to look back, so your Party Pal doesn’t feel any lack of inclusion. Occasionally, you’ll make a bit of a gesture for him to join in, but when the beat’s too loud for him to talk over it, he either shrugs or shakes his head, and urges you to keep going with your own fun.

For a moment, you wonder if it could be that the sound’s coming out of flowers, given the past experiences you’d aided him with, but the flower in the house is still alive and well, right next to Rocko. The more you think about it, though, this simply might not be Sans’ thing at all. You’ve never seen him around much pounding music, and his trombone is more of a lovely serenade… ahem… than something like this. His music palate might not be as diverse as his food palate, and that’s perfectly fine. He wants to support his brother and be here with you, which is really thoughtful of him either way… but you still can’t help but wish he could be enjoying this part of the night a little more.

“WELL, THE FLOWERS ONLY HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY LEFT FOR ONE MORE SONG TONIGHT. THEY DESERVE QUITE A LENGTHY ROUND OF APPLAUSE AND STOMPS.” A field of awws fills the air, and you can’t help but join in, but it’s not long before you’re clapping for them. The monsters in the crowd do the same, and those who wouldn’t be able to stomp in the dandruff snow instead. Sans joins in the clapping as well, appreciating the music, even if he’s not dancing along to it. Papyrus clears his vertebrae over the megaphone before speaking up again, and it’s so loud that the snow on the trees seems to tremble.

“THIS LAST SONG’S A VERY IMPORTANT ONE. IT’S DEDICATED TO SOMEONE IN THE FRONT ROW THAT WAS MY SECOND IN COMMAND FOR MAKING ALL OF THIS HAPPEN. YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE HIM FROM HIS SMILE OR NAPS FROM HIS JOBS AROUND THE UNDERGROUND, AND TONIGHT, I WANT TO GIVE HIM SOMETHING SPECIAL. PROTAG, COULD YOU PLEASE GIVE MY BROTHER A LIFT?”

You weren’t expecting to be put on the spot like this, but you’re sure going to listen. Lowering your head under Sans and getting his knees above your shoulders, you lift him up and face the crowd. His leg bones seem to shake when you lift him, but he doesn’t do anything to resist, and the town applauds him immediately. You can hear stray cheers from the regulars from Grillby’s.

“Way to go, Sans!”

“You rock, Sans!”

“You sure are a star, Sansy~”

“Grillby says he’s real proud of you, and that your tab can wait again!”

You can’t see Sans’ face, given your position, but you’re hoping it’s a joyous one. When the applause settles down, you bend over to let him down, and see a bit of a stunned smile on his face. This doesn’t seem like the type of situation he’s used to.

“…heheh… sure felt lifted by that, bud…”

“It’s what you deserve, and what you got. Simple as that, party pal.”

“THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIMELY APPLAUSE! IT’S GONE JUST LONG ENOUGH FOR THE SONG TO START. TAKE IT AWAY, FLOWERS!!”

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ay_BkRuv-o>

Sans’ pupils instantly shrink. That first beat was enough to seem to strike him very, very personally. Not wasting any time, you take his hand.

“This one means a lot to you?”

“y-yeah. my second favorite.”

“Well, we can’t wait a **second** longer, then!” Wanting to ease Sans into it, you start with a bit of a hop, and he doesn’t take any time to join in. He’s in even better cue with the beat than you are, so pretty soon, you’re wondering if he’ll be the one leading you. For each measure, your jumps get a little bigger, and when the chorus hits, Sans’ spirit for the song shines, as you and the rest of the crowd sing it together.

“Hey now, you’re an all star, get your game on, go play!”

“hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid!”

“AND ALLLLL THAT GLITTERS IS GOOOOOOLLLLD, ONLY SHOOTING STAAAARS BREAK THE MOOOOOLLLD!”

The noise from the crowd is on the brink of ear-splitting, and you’re not sure if it’s from their love of the song, their support for Sans, or both. He’s jumping and moving with the music in a way you’d never seen from him before; it’s as if years of this sort of energy were being stored to make these three minutes happen. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Papyrus briefly leaves his position in the front of the crowd, and joins in next to you and Sans. He doesn’t try to grab for your hands, as you figure he realizes that could turn into a pretzel on the ground really quick, but he flails along to the song, beaming with pride for how the festival’s going, and how happy his brother and yourself look.

Sans shouts along to every word, proving his point that this song means a lot to him. You wonder what his favorite song is, if this is his second, but now’s not the time for that. Throughout all the jumps, you never let go of your grip with him, and even seem to grip each other harder throughout. You’re not sure if it’s through wild precision, or some sort of magic, but his slippers don’t nudge an inch, which you’re thankful for, given the boot shoes you’ve got on. As the final chorus hits, the crowd’s turned into its own snowstorm, through the bouncing of hats and waving of arms. You can even see Aaron crowd surfing, figuring he’s enjoying every second of hands all over his muscles, as his creepy winks are strong enough for you to hear them. It’s a feeling no one wants to end, but eventually, the final guitar strum hits, and the crowd lets out a huge roar. The Echo Flowers seem to have used up what they’d been repeating, because now they’re sending the cheers right back. This could be a loud rest of the night, you think, as Papyrus grabs the megaphone again.

“ALL RIGHT!! IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU ALL HAD AN EXCELLENT TIME BEING SERENADED BY THE WONDERFUL ECHO FLOWERS, BUT THERE’S ONLY THREE MINUTES UNTIL MIDNIGHT! IT’S TIME FOR THE FINAL PART OF THE FESTIVAL’S TRIFECTA!” Walking around the flowers to the third and presumably final wooden fence, Papyrus pushes it over once more, showing a huge display of fireworks spread along the ground. The Firework is sitting neatly in the middle, and you can’t help but nudge Sans in the shoulder for his creation. He silently nudges back, and even if all you did was hold a piece of it down for a moment, you appreciate his appreciation for your work.

“I HAVE CALCULATED HOW TO MAKE THIS DISPLAY THE MOST MESMERIZING A DISPLAY COULD POSSIBLY BE! THE LIBRARBY DESERVES SPECIAL THANKS FOR WHAT I’VE PUT TOGETHER, AND I RECOMMEND YOU ALL GO THERE YOURSELVES, ONCE THEIR MODEST OPENING TIME OF 8 AM APPROACHES.” Papyrus takes a roll that the fuse line has been rolled to, and starts backpedaling to unravel it, until he gets back to the front of the crowd to watch for himself. He glances at his watch again.

“LESS THAN TWO MINUTES! GET TOGETHER WITH YOUR PARTY PALS, AND YOU CAN SAY YOU’VE BEEN WITH THEM FOR TWO YEARS IN A ROW!” He tosses the megaphone down, and stands off in his own spot by the side of the crowd. You look towards Papyrus, wondering why he wouldn’t want to be in the front row with Sans, but he looks right back at you, and gives a little finger point. After that, he directs the same finger to his watch, before holding it up high. One minute left.

It’s time to say it. There couldn’t be a better opportunity anywhere else in or on the planet. All of Sans’ tension is completely unglued, and you can get yours to quiet down long enough for this. Sans means nothing short of the world to you, and it’s about time he learns that.

You’re still clenching Sans’ hand, and you didn’t realize just how hard you’d been doing that until now. You spin your head over to make sure it hasn’t been hurting him… and see that he’s already looking up at you. More blue’s made its way to his face, and you didn’t have to say anything to encourage him to. The internal buzzing from your soul takes no time to kick into high gear.

“thanks for, uh, following along to my goofy music. meant a lot to have someone else to disjoint with for that.”

“Anytime, S-S-Sans. Anytime.” Some of the crowd’s started chanting down to midnight, and you can hear a few monsters shout “FORTY!” Pulling your hand off of his, you wrap it around his shoulder instead.

“Anytime?” You’re not sure why it comes out like a question, but he gives a thumbs up.

“yuppers. you’re an all star every day, and even if i don’t have g to pay, we’ve still gotta celebrate it.”

“THIRTY!”

“Awwww, Sans, you really mean that?” His bones start shaking, quickly going from 0 to 60.

“couldn’t mean it any more, pal. you’re brighter than any o’ those stars in the sky, and i’d never want any other.” Lost on what to do next, you keep a tight hold on Sans’ shoulder, as you and him turn to face the fireworks display.

“TWENTY!”

Time’s almost out. There’s no way anyone could pass out, or have to leave, or anything of the sort. It’s now, or… well, not never, but not something like this again for a long while. You slide your hand down his shoulder, and it stops right above his hip, in a sansual spot.

“FIFTEEN!”

Having your hand on his side means you can feel just how hard he’s shaking, and it’s unfathomably quick. You can’t not be looking at your crush another second, so you turn towards him and grab the same area on the far side. He turns your way without needing any help, and _grabs the same area above your hips as well._ Both of your blush radars are breaking to pieces.

“TWELVE! ELEVEN!”

You’re both breathing loud enough to hear each other over the crowd. You want to say the same thing, and being the one that pulled him in, you take the dive.

“Sans?”

“y-y-yeah, bud?”

“SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!”

The time has finally come.

“…I love you.”

Sans stands as solid as a statue, but slowly nods his head. You can see a tear swell up in his right eye socket, and a drop of sweat above it. The crowd’s counting down to one right now, but that couldn’t matter less for what you’re about to do.

Taking your right hand off of Sans’ side, you raise it up behind his skull…

…and bring it in to plant a big, wet smooch on his forehead.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

A whirring can be heard in your right ear, but much like the countdown, it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now. Your soul’s buzzing too hard for a single other thing to come to mind. There’s a coolness to his forehead that makes a perfect opposite to the warmness of your lips. You can’t see his expression right now, but you do your best to make it as at peace as possible, holding your lips on as long as you can keep your breath in. Your eyes briefly close, completely taking in this sansation with the skeleton you love, but it’s not long before you can’t hold it any longer without passing out. As you let go of the smooch and look towards the fireworks display with Sans in your grasp, you can see The Firework still fizzing its way up into the sky, until it erupts in the most fantastic display.

You’ve never seen anything quite like it. It’s a barrage of colors from all ranges of the rainbow, expanding in a way that no typical firework would. It’s a perfect circle, but rather than individual pieces blasting off, it’s all made this collective sphere of color. Every human up on the surface right now is completely missing out, as you and the rest of the crowd watch Sans’ collection in awe. He being the one that put it together only makes you even happier, as the sphere gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger…

…Big enough to reach the ground, and the display itself. All of the fireworks had been rigged to go off in a specific pattern, but the heat from The Firework is too much for them to stay down. They ALL begin to go off. The sky(?) begins to become a flurry of fireworks shooting off in their own spiraling paths, as Papyrus watches in a frigid position. Everyone in the crowd silently watches them whir upwards, until they all spontaneously let go, creating a noise so loud that you worry for a moment that the trees will come down. You refuse to let go of Sans, though, even if you’ve got no idea what kind of expression he has right now, so you don’t cover your ears, and take the war of sound in. There isn’t a speck of darkness left in the area; it’s all a hodgepodge of colors and smoke, with all the dramatic patterns blending their way into each other. Gradually, they all fade off, until some final ones that refuse to leave the spotlight keep crackling into nothingness. With the noise gone, the crowd stands in stunned silence, before bursting into cheers.

“That was the best thing ever, Papyrus!”

“You’ve got such great creativity, Papyrus!”

“Pa-py-rus! Pa-py-rus! Pa-py-rus!”

The crowd really likes that last one. They all begin to chant it together, snapping Papyrus’ confusion into one of bright surprise. Not sure what to take from all this, he gives a fluid bow. You’re beaming from seeing him beaming as much as he is, but it makes you realize that the fireworks had made you forget to look back at Sans. Turning your head towards him, you see that he’s also been looking at his brother, before he turns his head back towards you. Blue flushes back to his cheekbones and around his nose hole, before a nervous sort of smile comes back, after the stun from the firework blast fades off.

“lemme do ya one better.”

“What do you mea-” He cuts you off by grabbing at your head, and pulling your lips to his teeth to plant a kiss.

There’s the cloud nine you’d thought up earlier.

Your lips and his teeth make a perfect pair. There isn’t any sort of taste you can pick up from them, but their perfectly smooth feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Despite not having lips of his own, his skull seems to somehow contort around your lips as well, allowing you to fully lock yours in with him.

“m-mmf… c’mon, protag…” Apparently, he can talk during kissing, too. That’s something you sure hope you can experience more than once.

Everything in your surroundings seems to disappear; you and Sans are all that matter in your world right now. You tried watching each other’s eyes and eye sockets first, before giving in and closing them to make a sight that’s probably soppy to anyone watching. Your fingers find themselves clenching the back of his hoodie, as his do for the back of yours. Neither of you want this to stop anytime soon, so you take the briefest pauses to breathe in, before getting right back after it. Your soul’s pounding with energy, fully knowing that it’s found the best person it could ever ask to be with, and somehow, you swear you can feel some of the energy coming off of Sans’ soul as well. It’s so blurry that you can’t make out any details, but you can feel it coming from him, without a doubt.

“M-mmm…” The feeling of his somehow squishy bone around his mouth is something you can’t get enough of, as your tongue lovingly works its way onto his teeth. Without him having a jaw that’s opening, the most you can do is give his teeth a bit of a lick, but you’ll do anything you can to get him happy. Eventually, though, the short breaths aren’t enough to be getting enough air, so you have to slowly pull your heads away to look at each other, still in your warm clutching position. The depth of the blue on Sans’ face is unlike any you’ve seen from him, with all those years of waiting for something like this boiling over. Taking some deep breaths, you can hear that the chant’s still going on.

“Pa-py-rus! Pa-py-rus! Pa-py-rus!”

“Sans has a boyfriend?”

You recognize the voice from the guy with the huge mouth at Grillby’s. Nothing could make you turn your look away from Sans right now, though, so you try to unscramble the scrambled egg that’s your thoughts, before figuring out what to say.

“…Is he right?” Sans chuckles, like he would any other day, but closes his eyes. The dork can’t bring himself to look at you.

“…heheh… eheheh… yup. i’m totally in love with you.”

“How l, l, long have you known?”

“a while. had no friggin clue how to say it. thanks for making me not hafta figure that out, bud.”

“Oh, I was ready to combust any day now, that’d be one ugly mess to ruin tonight.”

“geez, yeah, the fireworks were red enough already.”

“Pffff… oh, come here, you.” You wrap your arms around Sans and rest your head on his left shoulder, and he wraps his around you as well. The crowd starts to dissipate to your left, and you’re glad you’re in the front row, or else they’d all have to walk around you. Nothing’s breaking this hug up.

“YIPPEE! I KNEW YOU TWO COULD DO IT!!”

Well, that might.

You and Sans let go of the hug to look towards Papyrus, but continue to cling to each other with a squeeze on the sides.

“h-hey, bro. congrats on the show, you really blew them all away. almost literally.”

“NO THANKS TO YOU, SANS! YOU PROVED MY HYPOTHESIS WRONG; CONDENSING THE SHOW INTO THIRTY SECONDS BROKE THE CROWD HAPPINESS SCALE!”

“the coolest dude leading ‘em all along doesn’t hurt anything, either.”

“Yeah, no one else c-could’ve done that, Papyrus. You had them all in the palms of your h-h-haaaaands…” Sans keeps squishing his hand around your ribs, sending jitters through your body each time.

“THANK YOU, BROTHER AND PROTAG. I’M VERY GLAD I COULD PUT THIS TOGETHER, IN THE GOOD NAMES OF TRADITION AND PASTA. MAYBE I’LL DO LASAGNA NEXT YEAR!” Next year would mean the one year anniversary of tonight, but you try to not get ahead of yourself.

“CONSIDERING I SPARKED AT LEAST ONE RELATIONSHIP, AND DIDN’T SEE ANY ENDING IN THE CROWD, I CONSIDER THAT A SUCCESS, TOO!!” Something flashes into your mind, and given how wonderful everything feels right now, you don’t want to be carrying any more questions than you have to.

“Papyrus, are you… okay with this being around your house? I don’t want to end up invading any boundaries…”

“NONSENSE! YOU AND SANS SEEM HAPPY AS CAN BE, AND I’M HONORED TO BE SHARING THE SAME HOUSEHOLD AS THAT, WHENEVER YOU WISH TO VISIT.”

“heheh, thanks, bro. protag’s really something-” You can’t help yourself, and cut Sans off with a well-placed smooch on his cheek. When you let go, he’s frozen up again.

“…something else.”

“SURE SEEMS SO!! I’VE GOT SOME CLEANING TO DO, BUT DON’T EVEN ASK TO HELP WITH ANY OF IT. YOU TWO GO HAVE FUN LOVING EACH OTHER! NYEH HEH HEH!” You’re not sure how one individual could clean all of this, but if anyone could, it’s Papyrus.

“Your brother truly is amazing.”

“glad ya think so, bonefriend.”

He’s completely gotten you.

“…b-b-b-b-b-b-b…”

“yup. as long as that’s what ya want. first time i’ve ever gotten to say that.”

“…W-well, I sure hope it’s not the last time, too… bonefriend.” Taking his hand, you slowly make your way back to the house. The only members of the huge crowd that haven’t left yet are some of Sans’ pub buds, who’re hooting and hollering for him in the distance. When you’d heard the one in the crowd, you’d hoped this doesn’t mean they’re gonna think any less of a friend after they wind up with someone this close, but it doesn’t seem that way at all. You can’t tell if the drunk rabbit is happy or not about this, but you hope that deep down, they’re pleased to see Sans have this. Using his other hand to pull his house key out, Sans leads you up to the door.

“so, uh… usually, when humans do stuff like this, one person always leads the other in, but who the heck says we gotta follow those rules?”

“No one, Sans. No one. We’re still the same buds we’ve always been, just with… with…” You’re not sure how to describe it.

“less bonely hearts?” His wink resonates deeper than ever before.

“…Yes. Never bonely again.” Letting out a wheezed chuckle, he unlocks the door, and pulls it open.

“hang on, gotta getcha all prepped up for rocko.” Raising your hand up to his teeth, by some feat that only can be explained with the word ‘magic’, Sans plants a smooch on your hand. Even with no lips, he’s able to pull off the feeling, and there’s this sort of sparkling feeling it leaves on your skin, which you realize his earlier smooch had done. You can ask if he knows what it means later, but if it’s some sort of tingling feeling of magic, you can totally look forward to more.

Stepping inside the house, it feels like you’re walking on clouds, as you and him let out low, consistent drawn-out giggles. Rocko is in the same spot as when you left, but even more sprinkles are gone. Sans’ pet rock is sentient. If you didn’t already love the Underground enough…

“So, um… I dunno what to do now. There’s so much in my head, and I don’t know what to sort through first. Can’t stress enough that I won’t stop any part of being your friend, though.”

“yeah, i figured that ain’t gonna change. you know me, i’d drive myself nuts if i turned this into some sorta equation.”

“Bonds should never be like that, and this one never will. Sans, you and I are gonna have the most fun ride we could ever want, cause I… I…” You’ve said it already, but you can’t help but say it again, as you gently bonk your forehead onto his.

“I love ya, bud.”

“eheheh, love ya too, dork. it was so hard to not spill the beans all over the floor at that dinner together. wouldn’t have been fun for them to clean up.”

“I doubt baked beans are on their menu, anyway. That’d be the quite the pain in the gas to figure out.”

“hey, my teeth didn’t white out your jokes. that’s a relief.” Sans abruptly looks over your shoulder and sees something, and changes his demeanor a bit.

“oh, yeah. the guitar. almost forgot.”

“Well, I might be sort of rusty right now, but if you want something, I’ll give it my best!”

“not that, actually. i don’t wanna strike a chord by taking your special thing, but, uh… i have something i wanna play for you. all star’s my second favorite song, and this one’s number one.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you play guitar! Perfectly fine, if you have something you wanna go for!” Your arms are all closed up in front of your chest, as you buzz with the sudden excitement of hearing Sans play an instrument you had no clue he’s got experience with.

“oh, i didn’t for a long while.”

“When’d you start?”

“urm… when i got this idea. this is the only song i know, don’t ask any requests. don’t wanna stink up the joints tonight.”

“Y-you learned it just for me?”

“yup. ya really played with my strings, protag. had to borrow one down the road, but i wanted to give yours a spin tonight.” Wondering if you’d end up hearing your flesh shake, you let go of Sans’ hand and open up the back, lifting the simple wooden guitar and a pick out. You hand them to him, as he throws the strap over his left shoulder bones and gives an adorable little thumbs up. Practically skipping, you make your way over to the couch, still thinking to avoid the hoodie, despite everything else on your mind. Sans strolls over in front of it, with his slippers making a slapping noise onto the carpet, from all the jumping they’d been doing in the wet snow.

“ready?”

“Yup!” He slowly brushes the pick over the strings.

_TWAAAAAANG_.

“woah. this thing’s so outta tune, it might not even wanna play a tune.” Giving the head of the guitar a little pat, Sans starts turning the knobs and plucking at the strings to get them back to how they should be. A bit of a nervous blush creeps in with your love one.

“Eheheh, my bad. Told ya it’s been a while, should’ve remembered to check that first.”

“nah, i’m the one that rushed ya out the door. guess i gotta tune my planning out.”

“Sans, you don’t have to tune anything about yourself. You’re the most wonderful, amazing skeleton, just the way you are.”

“geez, didn’t think tuning was gonna be another sop show. at least your two viewers are having a blast.” You’re not sure what he means by two, before remembering that there’s a sentient rock in the distance. How rude of you to almost forget, you joke to yourself, as Sans finishes on the final string.

“aight, for real this time. ya ready, bud?” Too jittery to try to get anything out, you eagerly nod your head, and Sans gives a melodic strum before diving into his song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oM-NCBZMZms

It’s beautiful. You’d called things that hadn’t related to Sans beautiful before, but this is true beauty. Sans’ voice is somehow even more joyous to hear than when you’d sung together. His eye sockets stay closed throughout the song.

_“like a river blowing, surely to the sea, darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be…”_

Not a single chord goes missed. For someone that’s never played a song on guitar before, and usually doesn’t commit to things with this much precision, he did his homework, and then some. You can feel tears instantly swelling up in your eyes, immediately rubbing them away so you can get the clearest look at your bonefriend.

_“take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can’t help falling in love with you…”_ You’d heard him say the word love before when talking to Papyrus, and you’re real glad they have that sort of bond, but hearing Sans say love in this sort of context makes you feel like your joints are gonna fall to pieces, from how happily they’re buzzing. Your hands stay clamped together, and your voice stays completely quiet, letting him play out the rest of his song. Memories can’t help but go back to all the wonderful times you’d had over the past couple months, making you all the more grateful that this is what it’s built to.

_“take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can’t help falling in love with you… for i can’t help falling in love with you.”_ He finishes his last strum, and lowers his other hand off the guitar neck.

“how was that?” The tears can’t hold back anymore. For the first time in front of Sans, your flood gates entirely let open, pouring out like the water in Waterfall.

“um… are you crying?” He sounds too surprised to even make a joke.

“…YOU SING SO GOOD!!!!” You’re even louder than you’d ever heard Papyrus talk. Without thinking about the risk of going stomach-first into a set of strings, you shoot up from the couch and squeeze Sans, rubbing your face next to his. After the initial stun wears off, he hugs back and does the same to you.

“Y-Y-You’ve never even played guitar before, and y-y-you learned it all just for me, and it was so clean, and your v-voice was perfect, and, and…” If he doesn’t stop you from going on, nothing will.

“there, there. didn’t think i’d hit the heartstrings that hard, but i’m real glad ya liked it that much. here, lemme get your guitar off, safe and sound, and we can relax a lil more.” Reluctantly letting go of the hug, you let Sans pull the guitar off his shoulder and zip it back into the case, before heading right back to you.

“get those boots off. pretty sure cuddles are on the order sheet right about now.” You couldn’t agree more. Kicking your boots off, and watching them glide over to the book about music choreography, you pick up Sans as he’s kicking his own slippers off, and lay down on the couch. He’s now facing down on you.

“Eheheh.. .what do we do from here?”

“i got an idea.” Without any more words, he plants another kiss on your mouth, and you gladly return it. Letting your hands play around with the back of his hoodie, you feel around his ribs and try to get him really comfy. Being in this sort of position on the couch is getting you tired really quickly, so your efforts in returning his kiss back ends up fading away in place of more little moans. He notices this, and pulls off from it.

“yikes. guess this is why i shouldn’t really press the effort onto all that much. i’m setting the tired powder on ya.” You don’t think the tingles from his magic are doing that, but he is right about fading fast. Between work, and everything that’d gone on over the past few hours, it’d been a packed day.

“….Mhm.”

“i’d take ya upstairs, but i dunno if i really… like… wanna get up, either. stayin’ right here’s the easier thing to do.”

“Completely a…*yawn*… agree.” The couch should be the perfect sleeping spot for your first night as bonefriends. Your feet aren’t dangerously close to the hoodie, anyway.

“Ready to call it a night?”

“yeah. we both used up our emotion banks already. night, night, protag.”

“L-Love ya.”

“love ya, too.” Sans rests his head on yours without asking, but you’d say yes a bazillion times if he had. Turning yours towards the side to make it a better pillow for him, you let the mutual tight grasp between you and Sans pull you to sleep. A twinge of guilt decides to shoot back, given what you don’t know about the future, from the lack of answers your research has provided so far, but you do your best to hold that back. You and Sans love each other, and as you drift off to sleep with the biggest grin on your face, that’s the only thing in the world that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Star was made by Smashmouth, and Can't Help Falling in Love was made by Elvis Presley, with the Understrum variation by EAT Inc on YouTube. I have no association with either song, and very much enjoy the cover and animation that the YouTube account's created.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for the art, merrylenny01! I recommend everyone check them out, this art made me so, so happy. Here’s the link to the post! https://merrylenny01.tumblr.com/post/626993311183503360/was-reading-longfic-a-skeletons-connection-by


	26. Words of Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans are finally openly jointed together in love. The time you've spent together has proven how wonderful of a dude duo you are, and it's boiled over at last. In the morning, your favorite person will be waking up right on top of you, and everything will feel how it should... well, at least on the outside. For your brain's thinking, that's another question.

**Chapter 26 – Words of Wisdom**

Was it all a dream? Last night certainly felt real enough, but could that have all somehow been a dream? Throughout your sleep, your brain tries to figure out how to take in the wave it rode yesterday. The wonders over how Sans feels being gone, the warmness you had together, him passing out on you… your noggin continues to battle over what’s real, and what isn’t.

A shout from a passerby outside to “PLEASE GO VISIT THE LIBRARBY, IF YOU WANT TO BECOME AS GREAT OF A PLANNER AS PAPYRUS” shoots through the windows, pulling your noggin out of its sleepy trance.

As your eyes pull themselves open and squint through the initial blur, you don’t see your apartment, which is a good sign. As you try to turn your head, you find some light resistance on it, and figure that the ribs your left arm are feeling right now must be someone else’s. Yet another good sign that this hasn’t all been a dream. If Sans really is on top of you right now, you’re not gonna turn around and ruin that, so if only some sort of sound could come your way…

“…eheh, no, i ain’t corny enough to sell corn dogs, protag…” Sans somehow puns in his sleep, before going back to some quiet snores. You can’t shout it out loud, but it’s all real! None of last night was a dream! Sans and yourself really do love each other, and he really is on top of you right now! Enjoying this sweet realization, you let your face gently snuggle up with Sans’ some more, enjoying the somehow soft feeling his cheekbones have. Holding him a little tighter, your eyes drift off again for a little longer, before you hear a door swing open.

Papyrus is up, and he strides his way down the stairs, battle body looking as pristine as always. He’s about to say something, but sees his brother passed out over you, notices your eye contact, and makes a thumbs up before moving along to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The aromas from his cooking soon fill the house, and you notice that it’s not the typical smell of pasta. Sans must’ve noticed this, too, because you can hear some sniffing, following by a head rubbing around on yours.

“…hrm… oh, hey. mornin’, protag.” He pulls his skull off your head completely to get a better look at you, and you turn your head to do the same.

“Morning, Sans.” You might’ve passed out alongside Sans once before, but it wasn’t nearly this intimate, so this is something you’d have great fun exploring.

“didja sleep well, with a boneyard on top of ya?”

“Sure did. Got worried last night was somehow a dream, but fortunately, it ain’t.”

“ya sure? i could just be some made up thing in your imagination, you might wake up any second now. heck, the barrier might’ve never broken.”

“…Sans, if you’re somehow not there-”

“nah, i’d hope i’m not that cruel.” He grabs at your right cheek and gently pinches the skin a bit. “don’t think dream skeletons can do that.”

“Nope. Seems pretty Grade A real to me. How’d yours go?”

“the human mattress was different, but it’ll get a good review. had a dream you kept tryin’ to get me to sell corn dogs at my station, no matter how much i told ya my grill can’t do that. day one, and you’re already trying to take over my business.”

“Heard some of it, hope dream me didn’t **fry **you up all that bad.”

“GOOD MORNING, YOU TWO! THE PUNS TELL ME YOU’VE CAUGHT ALL YOUR Z’S FOR NOW.” Punning got too exciting to keep it quiet.

“mornin’, papy. congrats again on last night, you were… were…”

“You were brighter than any star on the surface.” You figure Sans had meant to say something like that, but couldn’t get it out, from his drowsiness.

“WELL, THANK YOU, PROTAG! A MINE FIELD OF BOOKS REALLY IS THE BEST WAY TO PUT A FESTIVAL TOGETHER. BREAKFAST IS JUST ABOUT READY, WHENEVER YOU TWO ARE!” Given how different this smell is from the usual breakfast, neither you or Sans want to hold Papyrus up, so your bonefriend gets up first, plopping his bare feet on the carpet and making a big stretch. His joints make the most adorable little pops. You follow suit, swinging your feet off the couch and bending your back forward to get your spine comfortable.

“all that pesky muscle, gettin’ in your way.”

“Is there any G I can pay to make muscle stretches unneeded? Maybe that’s why fried snow’s so expensive.”

“doesn’t do that, as far as i know. why don’tcha pay up and find out yourself?” Laughing and giving each other a little bonk on the foreheads, Sans trundles his way to the kitchen, and you follow close behind. Your bonefriend purposefully leaves his slippers by the couch to get you all warm from seeing his feet bones. If that really is his plan, it sure is working.

“HERE YOU TWO ARE! THIS IS A TRADITIONAL UNDERGROUND NEW YEAR’S BREAKFAST, PROTAG. IT WAS MEANT TO BRING THE FORTUNE OF BEING FREED SOME DAY, BUT AFTER THE AMBASSADOR CAME ALONG, WE LIKED THE DISH TOO MUCH. SOMEONE SUGGESTED WE CROSS OUT THAT PART AND CHANGE IT TO MEANING OUR PETS WILL BE LOYAL, SO THAT’S WHAT IT SERVES FOR NOW.” The dish is some form of mashed potatoes, but with pieces of steak scattered throughout, and a hearty layer of gravy poured over it. A cup of strawberry yogurt, as well as some apple juice, round up the meal.

“woah, pap, this is your first time makin’ this. your cooking’s really gonna be the meat and potatoes of the day.” Papyrus groans a bit from the joke, but still seems to appreciate his brother’s care for the food.

“This looks superb, Papyrus! Real lucky to get to enjoy some traditional food like this.”

“OH! HOW COULD I ALMOST FORGET!! IT’S YOUR FIRST MEAL AS… ERM… ‘BONEFRIENDS’, AS YOU TWO SEEM TO BE CALLING IT. WHAT BETTER WAY TO CELEBRATE THAT THAN LOADS OF GRAVY?”

“That, and the strawberries and juice showing off how sweet my bonefriend is.”

“WOW! EVEN MORE COINCIDENCES I DIDN’T REALIZE! SANS, YOU’VE GOT A FELLOW SMARTIE ON YOUR HANDS.”

“heheh, you’re not wrong. told him we might hafta each make a firework next year. hope the sky won’t nope out forever after that.”

“If it does, it’ll sure go out with a bang.” You and Sans laugh, while Papyrus struggles to hold back a smile, as you all work through your meal. He did an excellent job with it; it all sort of tastes like things you’d been familiar with on the surface, but with an extra sweetness to them. Wherever he got the yogurt and apple juice from was the right place to go as well, as they both taste completely fresh. You, Sans, and Papyrus all work through it rapidly, not talking much in between. No matter how used to it you’ve started to get, you can’t help but watch Sans slap more food onto his teeth, and he continues to find ways to look at you that question how different it is. Before long, you all have clear plates.

“here, lemme clean these for ya, bro.” Sans offering to do some cleaning instead of his brother?

“it’ll knock that new year’s resolution outta the way.” That explains that.

“YOUR OFFER’S APPRECIATED, BROTHER, BUT I DON’T WANT ANY RISK OF A PLATE CRASHING DOWN ON YOU. I DOUBT YOU WANT TO SCARE YOUR BONEFRIEND AWAY ON THE FIRST BREAKFAST.”

“good point. guess you climbing up to the sink’s part o’ the tradition, anyhow.” Scooping up all of your plates, Papyrus climbs his way up to the sink to do the typical washing. The three of you being together in the kitchen like this brings you back to the first time you’d been invited over. No matter how many times you’re all together like this, a meal together always feels special, especially with one half of the bunch now being your bonefriend…

Unfortunately, the memories bring back their own uninvited guest.

The research. While you’d done your best to avoid thinking about it much yesterday, without the pressure of admitting your lovies for Sans now, it’s coming back much easier. This time together right now might feel really nice, but what’re the long-term consequences going to be? You wouldn’t end your bond with Sans for anything, knowing that your heart and soul take his smile and comfort over anyone else’s anywhere in the planet, but this fear of the future sounds like it could easily be what takes over yourself.

“WELL! LOOKS LIKE IT’S ALMOST TEN. I’VE GOT A CLIENT TO MEET UP WITH SOON.” You’re relieved Papyrus has something else for you to think over.

“already? ya didn’t take the day off?”

“NO WAY, SANS! YOU MAY SEE TODAY AS A DAY TO LAZE AROUND, AND YOU MIGHT NOT BE WRONG, BUT NOT ME! PEOPLE PARTIED HARD LAST NIGHT, AND IT’S MY JOB TO SOFTEN THAT UP. JUST LIKE AN EARWAX CLEANER.”

“good point. guess i didn’t keep an ear out for that idea.” He taps around on his skull where his right ear would be.

“PROTAG, I SURE HOPE YOU’RE READY TO BE SURROUNDED BY PLENTY OF JOKES AT THAT CALIBER.”

“Don’t worry, that rung out clear to my ear long ago.”

“…WELL, YOU’RE SURE FITTING IN WITH HIM ALREADY. ANYHOO, SEE YOU LATER!” Moving the dried plates to a cupboard, Papyrus takes off through the front door, leaving you, Sans, and Rocko on your own in the house.

“geez, thought my brother new year’s resolution could be to let himself have more breaks. working on new year’s sure doesn’t sound like a party.”

“Well… he’s not the only one. I took a shift, too.”

“oh. huh. i’d never tell ya how your work should go, but why’d ya pull a papyrus? really cool to go ahead and do that work, but it is a holiday.”

“Signed up for it a while ago, for the money, and now I can’t get out of it. Shouldn’t be all that busy, anyway.”

“makes sense. g doesn’t **g**row on trees.” You both share a light chuckle, but you can’t help but feel bad for your work today. Sans sure seems plenty understanding of it, but it’s your first full day openly in love, you have a shift to get to, and your long-term worries are clogging up your mind. You’re not feeling like the best bonefriend right about now, and Sans notices your visible concern.

“hey, bud, what’s up? did i hold ya too hard last night?”

“No, no, you were perfect. I just feel bad for leaving you this soon.” Glancing at your watch, you know it’s probably best you leave in the next few minutes.

“aww, don’t worry about that, protag. you’re being a real hard worker, that’s something i’d hafta tip my hat too, if i had one.”

“Does your hood count?”

“hmm… let’s see.” Sans sits up from his chair, and you do the same. He pulls his hood over his head, and tries to ‘tip’ it upwards, but all it does is fall back behind his skull.

“guess not.”

“The thought’s there. Here’s your prize.” You reach your right hand out, and Sans gladly takes it, letting the other rest in his hoodie pocket. It must need a break after that intense hood lifting.

“you’re still not lookin’ the brightest. sorry if my bones are too cold.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem at all. I can finally say how gosh darn touching your touch is.”

“heh, thanks. say, while we’re on the topic of hands, i’ve got a pop quiz for ya.”

“Uh oh. Don’t think I studied.”

“don’t worry. rocko’s disappointment’s the only thing ya gotta think of.”

“Well, that certainly isn’t some high stakes. Guess I better nail this.”

“how many bones are in the human hand?” This sure isn’t your expertise. You do your best to think back to any tidbits you may have learned in grade school, but nothing comes to mind, so you shake your head.

“a handful of them.” You’re about to say something about him rigging the rules, but the huge grin on his face is contagious, and you wind up with one as well.

“…Gosh. There’s so much I’ve wanted to say that I wanna let out now.”

“same with me, but let’s not say it all off the get-go. we’ve gotta spread out rocko’s entertainment.” Giving a brief nod, you use the other arm to pull Sans in, letting his face press up onto your chest, as you rest your chin on top of his skull.

“guess doin’ whatever this is is my new job.”

“Pfff, don’t kid yourself.” You pat the back of Sans’ hoodie with your left hand.

“I love ya so much.” You don’t mean that with any lightness or lack of true feelings; you deeply, deeply love and appreciate Sans, and nothing else could be closer to the truth.

“i send that tennis ball right back at ya, pal.”

“Yikes, the dog’s gonna come after it, and it’ll bump into the books. Papyrus won’t be pleased.” Laughing, you enjoy your last minute of the day together in the warm hug. No matter how high your anxieties are, this is the perfect treatment.

* * *

You’re still hoping three weeks later that that treatment can stay in your bloodstream.

You find yourself in the New Home Library once more, trying and failing to go through more readings. You were able to visit Sans at his hot dog work each Saturday since New Year’s, but on every other day, you’re wrapped up in work, and then pounding through literature in the library. Sans, as you figured, is the least clingy bonefriend you could ever ask for; he never even asks what’s been keeping you so busy, presumably figuring it’s something you need focus for. It’s been really hard leaving him after each Saturday together, but you know that you’ll eventually have to reach some sort of peace of mind, which will make things better for the both of you.

The fact that you’ve gone through the entire section on soul reactions, though, is really hard to accept. You’re completely certain your soul’s what buzzes whenever you’re next to him, and now even thinking about Sans, so not a single piece of writing discussing human souls reacting to love is exceptionally confusing.

“Some of these things are practically falling apart at the spine, how are none of them old enough…” With no voices but Sans and Papyrus’ texts to provide company, all you can do in that regard is get more used to talking to yourself. It’s never much of a conversation, but it’s better than nothing. Half from wanting information, and half from getting fairly hungry, you flip through an old cookbook with recipes that’re meant to impress significant others, but your watch buzzes for 7:30 soon after. You refuse to let this break your health, so you take the book back to the shelf and trudge back to the apartment on a quiet Wednesday night. Aaron’s not around to add a healthy level of confusion and creepiness this time.

The following day of work is sadly unremarkable. Sans sends a goofy picture in the morning of a heart drawn in pencil on a napkin, which sends you back to the memory of the souls he drew on your calendar, when he’d been taking care of your sickness.

**“Are you getting an art major behind my back?”**

**“don’t think so. then i’d hafta pay to learn how to mess with these doodles more.”**

**“Well, you don’t need to pay a single G. It’s perfect just how it is.”**

**“heh, thanks. not anyone gets the painstaking anguish drawing on a napkin takes.”**

**“Pffff, oh, you.”**

**“oh, me.”**

His artwork, and the admittedly sweeter than usual box of ICE-E’s Cereal proved to be a sweet start to the morning, but they’re miles better than the mundane day that follows. You’d been assigned to move boxes in the back, and while directing things in the aisles would’ve been a little nicer for your head, you didn’t want to make a fuss and switch roles with anyone. It’s not like you dropped a box on your foot and had to deal with the pain the rest of the day, but a bunch of tan cubes doesn’t stay all that interesting for long. Brenda isn’t in, either; you’d seen her a few times since New Year’s, and she was real proud of you for making things happen with Sans, but with your research that you can’t feel the push to tell anyone about, there hasn’t been much else about your sansational bond to discuss with her.

When the day ends, you punch out, give a half-hearted wave towards your bosses, and make your way to the library yet again. What a sight, you think to yourself, as you walk down the street; you’ve got a special someone, and you can’t fully enjoy it until you find the right lines in a book.

“Here goes again…” The huge doors aren’t as remarkable as they were the first times you’d gone through them. Not wanting to bother with the cooking section this time, you figure it’s best you dive back into the monster history section you’d given more looks recently. All the complicated books you’d thought could provide information had ended up straying really far from what’s needed, so this time, you grab one that’s been made for younger audiences. It’s simply titled ‘The Early History of Monsters Underground’, and going by how must dust there is, it fits the typical criteria. You take it back to the table by the stained glass window you’ve made habit out of using, feeling glad no one else has taken it first; after how sluggish work was, that could’ve set off a bit of a gasket inside. Opening up the book, you begin to read through, less willing to skip through pages now than when you’d began all of this. For a culture that runs around love and compassion, though, you’re really not finding anything that pertains to those. The minutes, and eventually hours, tick past on your watch, as the tragedy of the war between humans and monsters manages to both sadden you from the recalling, and nerve you up for not having more points to help your case. You get past the point where it tells of when the Barrier was formed, and read the following passage.

**“Trapped behind the Barrier and fearful of further human attacks, we retreated. Far, far into the earth we walked, until we reached the cavern’s end. This was our new home, which we named… ‘Home’. As great as our king is, he’s pretty lousy at names.”**

“…AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” A quick shout draws out without thought, and you toss the book down onto the desk in anger. On any other day, you’d never think to do something like that at a public library, but it’s all too much right now. All you want is at least an inkling into how monster and human love has worked over time, and you’re coming up with finding out the former king was bad with names. Nothing could be further from what you need… and what Sans needs, and…

You’re on the verge of tears. Your bonefriend deserves nothing but peace and comfort, but without figuring out anything for how managing longevity works, you can’t promise him that. Love’s not something you’ll ever question, but it’s led yourself this deeply into his life, and that could be what spells disaster down the road when you get older.

Closing your eyes and taking an audible breath in and out from your nose, you open them up again and look across the library to see if you’ve gotten any glances. By some miracle, no one’s looking your way, and you’re far enough from the front desks for them to notice, so you’re in the clear, despite it not feeling like you deserve that. If anyone else was in the same predicament as you, though, you figure they’d act the same way. How else could someone react, if they’re trying to find important information about love, and only come across poor naming from traveling deep into the Ruins instead…

…Wait. The Ruins.

When you’d taken Sans to the Ruins to help ease his mind from the bad nightmares and daydreams he’d been enduring, you’d passed by a collection of books that the former queen had kept in her home. For one reason or another, she hadn’t taken them when moving up to the surface, meaning you and Sans had gotten a clear look at their existence. You hadn’t thought for a moment to browse through them, figuring that’d be invading someone’s property, but there’s a much greater need now.

Those books must be the oldest in the Underground, no questions asked. Some of them could have even come from before the Barrier was created, given it being common knowledge the former king and queen had been around since then. You’d been under the impression there was something unique about them that granted them longer life, but Brenda’s age was enough to break that. Work managers aside, the age of those books could be enough to bring you into knowledge that was put together long, long ago… long enough to be at a time humans and monsters could typically feel for each other in such a way. It might be wishful thinking, but it’s still hope.

Feeling pushed by this new sense of hope for an answer to be found, you close up the book and bring it back to its shelf, before heading back to the apartment. This library's not going to offer anything, and dinner’s been waiting long enough.

As you arrive at the apartment building and make your way up the elevator, you realize a trek to the Ruins, and any reading that could take place there, would be an all-day affair. Sansturday is already lovingly filled, so the best option seems like tomorrow, which means you’ll have to call off from work. It’s been a couple months since you last did so, which was when you had the extended weekend with Sans and Papyrus, so hopefully that’s been long enough. They wouldn’t be happy if you called on the day of, so you dial them now while rising up to your floor. A few rings on their end play over the phone, followed by a familiar voice.

“Greetings, this is Brenda speaking.” That couldn’t have worked out better.

“Hey, Brenda, it’s Protag.”

“Oh, hello there, Protag, good hearing from you. What’d you need?”

“I’m really sorry if this times out poorly, but I can’t come in tomorrow. Had something real important come up.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy Friday, but it’s you, so I’ll let you off the hook. What suddenly sprung up?” If Brenda’s giving you the day off, you can’t see a reason to give a dishonest answer.

“Something important came up for someone that means a lot. I’ve gotta do things for them. Sorry again if this is doesn’t time out well.”

“Sans?” She picked through that right away.

“…How’d you know?”

“Oh, I was the same way with the wife when we first got really close. Something would come up, I’d feel like I’d really need to be with her, I’d find a way to get off whatever was going on. I’d be a hypocrite to say you can’t do the same.”

“…Thanks, Brenda. It’s really important I’m doing this tomorrow, so I sure appreciate being let off the hook.”

“Not a problem, Protag. You go do whatever he needs.” She hangs up, as you open up the door to your apartment room. That’s one thing off your shoulders; having work in the back of your mind wouldn’t have made things any easier. You’re not really sure how you’ll go about your reading when you make it to this house, but what you can control is getting there, so you try to figure out how you can get there without Sans and Papyrus noticing and getting any concern.

* * *

The next morning, after devouring an especially large cereal bowl, you realize you’ll need some extra prep to make this trip work the best it can. There’s some cookies and snack wraps around the apartment for you to throw into a string bag, both of wish you assure yourself you’ll eat nowhere near the books. If Sans knew about all this, he’d say that’s a pretty crummy thing to do. It’s what makes you realize if he’s the first one to text you this morning, it’ll be harder to figure out a way around the subject for the day, so you grab your phone from the table and send one his way first.

**“Hey, Sans, hope you’ve got an excellent Friday ahead!”** He gets back a couple minutes later.

**“heya, protag. hope your friday won’t be a fishy one.”**

**“Fishy? Why would it be fishy?”**

**“when you’re buds with a fish lady, a day can turn fishy in seconds. who knows if that’ll flounder up by your side today? that smell would be a real funky bass-line.”**

**“Sans, I hope you know how wonderful this gift of yours is.”**

**“heh, i do. i’ve had enough bags of oatmeal tossed at my skull to prove it.”**

There’s the push you didn’t realize you needed. Sending a selfie of your blushed up face his way and hoping he sees it later, you bundle up in a fair set of layers, with an actual jacket to wear through Snowdin for once, a warm pair of jeans, and some boots. You also pack some thin gloves in the bag as well, in case these books are really worn down and could rip easily. You’re not sure how older Underground paper works, but you don’t want to find that answer the hard way. Taking a look outside your window and hoping that this is the final morning you have these lingering anxieties in your gut, you swing towards the door and make your way towards the elevator at a steady pace. Nothing’s stopping you from making this time as valuable as it can be.

With a walk that almost feels robotic by this point, it’s not long before you return to the Hotland station, and as expected, the Riverperson is waiting. You share the typical exchange, before stepping onto the boat to make your way to Snowdin. There’s no station in the Ruins, as the Riverperson said all that would happen is you’d both be “ruined by a waterfall, if that’s what you prefer”, so you’ll have to do some cautious movement when you arrive. The boat makes its usual straight path to the station, and as it cuts through the glistening water, you think of something to ask to pass the time.

“Riverperson? If you’re alright with answering, have you ever been to the Ruins yourself?” They don’t look towards you, always keeping their… glance, you decide to call it, on the water, but still offer an answer.

“Yes. I learned an important lesson there. Be wary of the bricks that discuss numbers.” There’s plenty to ask regarding when and how they got there, given all their time on the boat, but with how reserved the Riverperson is, you don’t see those boundaries being ones that’re worth breaking into. Sans must not be making up his points about brick numbers 8392 and 8393, then; each brick’s got its own identity, and you’ll do your best to respect their boundaries. It’s not long before the boat slows down into the station, and you give your usual thanks before stepping off. Hopefully, the dog head of the boat’s been getting its fair share of dog boat treats for a job well done.

The skeleton brothers’ house is to the left of the station, so all you have to do to avoid it is keep a low profile. Making an awkward side step down the path so neither of them can see your face if you’re outside, you manage to make your way to the main street without running into anyone. Trying to avoid seeing them of all things really doesn’t feel right, but it’s a sacrifice that’ll be for the better. Once you’ve made it to the main street, you do a bit of a jog forward until you’re sure you’re far enough from the center of town. Some snow kicks up on your pants, but rather than getting a harsh chill from them like surface snow would do, there’s a big of a magical twinge it leaves. It’s sort of like the wonderful feeling from Sans’ smooches, just not as powerful.

Your walk to the Ruins feels a lot different without Sans this time. When you’d gone there with him, his comfort had been your only concern, but now that it’s just you, you take the time to take in all the sights, like that of the fields of trees you can see from the hanging bridge. On the surface, you wouldn’t have the joy of getting to see this year-round, so you take in all the natural beauty from the view, along with the peace of mind of knowing it’ll always be there to be seen.

“Sans, I wish you could be watching this with me right now…” Your words cut into the crisp air, not having anyone to hear them, as long as the bridge isn’t sentient, too. After a relaxed few minutes, you know you can’t be standing around here all day, so you press forward, walking through the smooth snow of Snowdin. Along the way, you see the snowman in the distance that Papyrus had mentioned in his festival plans, still with the party hat on his head. If you have the time when you head back, you’ll make sure to head over for a visit.

It’s not long after spotting him that you find yourself by the door to the Ruins. It shouldn’t be as cold inside, so you unzip your jacket as you let a load of air in and out. If a collection of writing this old can’t have what you need for managing human and monster life spans, you’re not sure what will. You figure the best way to approach this is the same way you would for the Positivity Punch; you can’t go into it with a low mindset, or else getting what you want… no, need out of this, would be far too difficult. You pull one of the meat and cheese wraps out of your bag and munch down on it to ensure a full stomach, and then press forward into the Ruins.

As expected, you’re immediately let into the basement path that leads to the house. You’re thankful it’s this close to the doors, so you don’t have to worry about getting lost without a navigator. The bleak, dark purple walls of the path, as well as the ominous patch of grass from the front, both prove to be more intimidating on your own than you thought they’d be, but you press forward. When you take the turn and make your way to the end, the stairs still have bright light casting from above them, as you go up them and find yourselves back in the house you’d briefly passed through last time.

“House, I’m sorry to be breaking in like this, but there’s something I really need.” Even if the house can’t talk back to you, getting that out loud makes you feel better about this. You remember seeing the bookshelves to your right last time, so you make a quick turn that way and enter the room. It’s just about the same as a living room you’d see on the surface; there’s a fireplace that’s somehow still going, the aforementioned shelves of books of different colors and sizes, and a dining table to your left. There’s two big chairs and a small one, and you’d known enough about the history of the Underground to know who each one would’ve been for. You’re pushing enough boundaries already, though, to be nosing into anything that’s not what you need. Stepping up towards the bookshelf, you see that there’s a note taped to the center. The former queen was apparently expecting someone to come along for these.

**“Greetings, whomever may be reading this. I have left these books here as a preservation of our history, for any person that finds this. The knowledge contained here was too much of a risk to carry around on the surface, so it has been left here, to be found by you today. All that I ask is that you do not take any of the books with you. There could very well be someone here tomorrow that needs what you have found.”**

She didn’t sign her name at the bottom, but given the elegance of the handwriting, you’re fairly certain the former queen was the one who wrote this. It makes you laugh a bit that the note is next to a book entitled _72 Uses for Snails_, but there could be a snail enthusiast out there that’ll have their life changed by it. There’s a big, soft chair by the fireplace, but sitting in someone else’s furniture wouldn’t feel right, so you set your bag next to it and get to looking through the bookshelves.

Toriel was right in her note about this being knowledge that can’t be found anywhere else; there’s ancient books on housekeeping, medieval government, magical techniques you’d never heard of before, and some that are so old, they predate the revolutionary discovery of the idea to put the title of a book on the spine. Truly a sign of years gone by. If what you need is here, you’re really hoping it’s not in one of those, but those thoughts are interrupted by the sight of a spine that simply says _How Monsters and Humans Lived Together_. The details in this book must’ve not carried from word of mouth, given how small the amount of monsters is compared to humans, and humans seemingly writing that side of their past out of their history.

Given how old this text must be, you’re not taking any risks of ruining it, so you open up the string bag and pull the white cotton gloves on. You and Sans can probably have some fun with these another time, given the unanswered question of what they’d look like on a skeleton’s hands. Papyrus could join in on the fun, too. If you keep thinking on this, though, you’ll spend the day planning out glove gags, which isn’t what you called off of work for. Very cautiously, you place your hand on top of the book and push it forward for the other gloved hand to grab the spine of, and to your relief, nothing falls out. What’s especially surprising is that there isn’t a speck of dust on the book; some sort of cleansing magic may have been placed on it, given how adept with magic the former owner of the home is.

Closing your eyes and letting thoughts of the goofy pictures Sans has been texting you give you energy, you open up the book and begin to flip through the front pages. It starts by talking about the first civilizations that were made by the two sides, with drawings that’re nearly impossible to make out, with how faded they’ve become. Apparently, there was dissent from the human side of things from the start, as many communities had humans living in their own closed off sectors, before eventually mixing in more with monsters. It doesn’t surprise you all that much, you think to yourself, as you continue to read.

As time went on, forms of communal living became more prevalent for human and monster culture, as they were able to see the benefits of bringing their skillsets together. It’s starting to feel like you’re getting closer to something. Going through more of it, you learn that this mutual living was one that allowed a greater sense of friendship to bloom, fueled by the unwavering love and compassion of monsters’ souls, until you make it to the fateful part: the first close relations between the two sides. You discover how dating practices tended to be wild and creative, making you think back to the extravagance of the sushi that you and Sans ordered at Bhodeck. It was meant to be. Hands shaking, you turn through the pages, hoping this author was around long enough to see how humans managed their lives in love with monsters, and what the love would do for them.

That’s when you find it.

**“It was expected that issues would come up for aging not working the same. After all, us monsters tend to kick the bucket far, far after humans do, which, on a surface level, appears to be quite the disaster.”** Even back then, monsterkind had its sense of humor.

**“However, this corrected itself in a wonderful way. As it’s commonly known, a monster soul holds a level of love, hope, and compassion that the humans that cast us here don’t need to exist. Whenever a human would come along, though, that shared that level of love and compassion for a monster, something truly amazing would happen. If the monster and the human both deeply, completely wanted to spend their lives together, the love from the monster would copy itself onto the human soul. This new power would let them live in harmony for the same amount of time the monster would live on their own. They don’t turn into old hags; rather, they keep their healthy state of being for the monster, as long as the two still want to find new things to do. The first humans to discover it had to conduct their own research on how souls do their stuff, and for any later humans to make that connection happen, they had to learn about the feat themselves. Knowing it can be a possible future, and wanting it with every ounce of their bodies, is what makes this love for hundreds of years possible. We fear the thought of what happened to the few humans that had that bond before this terrible barrier was created.”**

Reading that passage sends you straight into the chair, unable to stand.

The answer to managing Sans’ lifespan and yours being different is that… you don’t have to. Your travels have given you the knowledge that if a monster and human want to live together forever like this, and hold nothing but truth, the souls will somehow… make it happen. Flipping through farther, the book doesn’t go into any more detail, so you’re not sure what exactly makes this copying of the love happen, or what it looks like, but you’ve now got just what you needed; something to hope for!

You’re not trapping Sans into some life he’d hate! With how much you love your best friend, and how much he loves you, if you keep giving each other your best, this simply has to happen! Neither of you have felt this way about anyone else before, so if something this… this drastic were to happen, it’d be between you two. Sans’ love could be powerful enough to send your life on a new track; one that’ll mean giving him a healthy, happy Protag as long as possible. Without knowing this before, the opportunity for such a moment to happen wasn’t feasible, but this just swung that gate open.

All of this is giving you too much excitement to trust yourself to keep the book in your hands, and you’ve already broken your personal mandate of not sitting in the admittedly very comfy chair. Therefore, you stand back up, flip ahead again to see if there’s anything you hadn’t read about it yet, don’t come across anything, and set the book back onto the shelf with great care. Keeping it to show Sans yourself is tempting, given how wonderful this could be for your future, but you could never enjoy having it, given the note that was written. Besides, you’ve already been given the OK for invading the former queen’s space, so being a thief would feel all sorts of unwarranted. With the book put away, you’re not sure what else to do at the moment, so you…

…sit back down on the seat. It’s too comfy for you to not give it another go, and if it has some sort of conscience of its own, it probably really appreciates having someone to sit on it again after all this time. You let you head lay back on the soft fabric and cushion, letting the bulk of the anxieties over the past few weeks slip out. This sort of event with Sans may have not happened yet, but now that you’ve bridged over the wall of knowing this feat exists, you believe in yourself and that adorkable skeleton to make it work. He must be reading your mind, or something along those lines, because moments after you think that, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Happily pulling your phone out, you see it’s from him, as hoped.

**“heya, protag. congrats on lasting another boneless work day.” **Glimpsing up at the time, you see it’s when you would’ve gotten off of your shift, if you’d been there.

**“Not counting the bones in my body?”**

**“oh, right. forgot ya got your own skeleton ya carry around. i gotta have a talk with it someday, it’ll try to pull you away from me before ya know it.”**

**“Yikes, yeah, you might wanna have a long, close talk with it, then. Soft contact would probably make it listen best.”**

**“heh, that can be arranged. anyhoo, lemme know when you’re back at your apartment and all changed up.”**

**“Why’s that, hun?”**

**“there’s somethin’ real neat i gotta show ya. think of it as a really, really late new year’s gift. guess i really kept you hanging this long.”**

**“You mean the song wasn’t the gift?”**

**“eh, by some miracle, that was the gift to your ears. this one’s the gift to your… uh… crud.”**

**“What’s wrong?”**

**“i’m real bad at these. i’m gonna give something away.”**

**“Oh, no, Sans, it’s all good. All you’ve given away is some smiles, since I can think about whatever it’s gonna be now!”**

**“heheh, glad to hear. lemme know when you’re ready for the taxi ride.”**

**“Will do!”** There’s no way you’re walking all the way back to your apartment, just for Sans to grab you and take you back to his home, so an in-person surprise will have to do.

“Thanks, house. You don’t know how much you just did for me.” The crackles from the fire are all you hear back, but you feel better after offering your appreciation. Swinging the bag over your shoulder, you make your way through the hall, down the stairs, and along the path that will take you out of the Ruins. While you’re working through it, you figure you should fuel up for the next trek, so you pull some cookies out of your bag and munch down on them, as the light from Snowdin comes into view. With the new sense of optimism you’re feeling, they’re the best cookies you’ve had in years. Dark chocolate chips sure don’t hurt anything, either.

The walk back may be the same path you took on the way to the Ruins, but now that you have the understanding you’d needed all this time, the snow feels more akin to the instant fluff that surface grocery stores sell. None of the cold air’s snipping at your skin, either, as you forget to zip up your jacket, and pay no mind to it at all. You do remember to visit the snowman, though, and compliment him on his hat. He seems very appreciative.

“Thank you, human. That’s the first compliment on my clothes I’ve gotten in an eternity.”

“Aww, really? You deserved one much sooner, the hat looks great on you!”

“It’s also the first piece of clothing I’ve ever worn.”

“Oh. Well, if you had worn one before, I’m sure you would’ve been complimented on it right away, too!” With the skeleton brothers waiting, you can’t stay for long, but the snowman appreciates the company regardless. The rest of the walk goes uninterrupted, as you hum gibberish about how wonderful Sans is while moving along the path. Warm ambience from towns soon meet your eyes and ears again, as you notice the occasional piece of wooden fence or firework material that hasn’t been swept away yet from the festival. Approaching the door and creating a simple plan in your head for if you get asked why you hadn’t told Sans you were ready, you knock. Papyrus, as usual, is the one to open it.

“WELL, HELLO THERE, PROTAG! SEEMS LIKE YOU DIDN’T TAKE UP MY BROTHER’S TAXI OFFER.”

“Haha, yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve taken a walk here. Thought I’d save him the time and magic.”

“I’D SAY THAT’S COURTEOUS, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT KIND OF THRILL SANS GETS, MOVING THROUGH TIME AND SPACE. IT’S BETTER YOU ASK HIM YOURSELF.” The younger brother opens the door wider for you to come inside, but as you do, you see that Sans isn’t around.

“Where is that taxi driver, anyway?”

“I’M… NOT SURE. HE WAS WAITING FOR YOU ON THE COUCH WHILE I WAS PREPPING DINNER.” Neither of you hear any movement from Sans’ room, either, so you’ve got no clue on his whereabouts. He’s always around to enjoy his brother’s cooking, so he wouldn’t have taken off to Grillby’s on short notice-

“hey.”

“AAAAAHHH! OH MY GOD!” Somehow, someway, Sans came in from the _outside_ of the house, and opened the door quietly enough for no one else to hear. Papyrus’ shout is what startles you more than Sans’ presence, though, and it sends you hands-first onto the wall on the right.

“G-geez, Sans, how’d you know I was coming?”

“your boots.”

“My boots?”

“yup. you were stompin’ your whole way through town. how could i not hear an unhinged savage plowing through like that?”

“Well, you’re right. The unhinged savage is here, unzipped jacket and all.” Laughing, you pull Sans in for a warm hug, planting a wet smooch on his forehead. It’s easily one of your favorite places to do that. His familiar blue rises up again on his cheekbones, as he refuses to let go of his hug.

“ya didn’t want my taxi service, then. still gonna hafta ask ya for the entrance fee. i’ve got another business to keep going here.”

“Ahaha, we can discuss the fees later. Told your brother already about why, I hadn’t gotten a walk to Snowdin in in a while.” It’s not dishonesty; ever since you and Sans became bonefriends, he’s always zipped over to the apartment to get you on your Sansturday visits.

“eh, can’t blame ya. guess that wolf that chucks the ice catches your fancy.” He winks, knowing that you thinking of that sort of physique would fluster you up a bit.

“Well, he may have some m-muscle… but no one’s ever gonna be cuter than my Sans.”

“your sans? you can buy clones of me at the market now? imitation’s the most sincere form of flattery, but that might be a lil much.”

“Pfff… oh, wait! You mentioned a gift, I almost got too caught up on the idea of Sans clones to think about it again.”

“oh, yeah. the gift. woulda been real awkward if i built it up, and never gave it to you.”

“GLAD YOU DIDN’T FORGET, BROTHER. HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I CAME TO YOUR STATION YEARS AGO, SAID I HAD A GIFT, AND DUMPED SOME SNOW ON YOUR DESK?”

“i’d tell ya i love it, and that i’d cherish that glob of snow forever.”

“NEVER MIND! SHOW HIM THE GIFT.”

“sure thing. protag, behold.” Letting go of the hug, Sans reaches his left hand into his respective hoodie pocket, fiddling around before pulling something out. He clamps the other hand over it, slowly pulls them in your direction, and opens it up like a treasure chest.

It’s a piece of toilet paper with “really loud sounds” written on it in pencil.

“whaddya think?” Instinct tells you to learn from what your bonefriend’s said.

“I love it, and I’ll cherish this cut of paper forever.”

“SANS! I GET THAT YOU AND PROTAG ENJOY MESSING AROUND, BUT YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE HIM THINK THE REAL GIFT DOESN’T EXIST.”

“oh. guess i’m too good at this to make it seem like the real gift exists. honored.”

“No matter what this ‘real gift’ is, I assure you that this toilet paper’s finding a perfect spot on my wall.”

“try not to blow your nose on it on the way back. that took a whole ten seconds to make.”

“TWELVE. DON’T FORGET TO COUNT THE FIRST TIME YOU TRIED TO YANK THE PIECE OFF.”

“whoops. split the difference and call it eleven?” Papyrus lets out a loud, audible groan, as you figure he didn’t think it’d take this long for this whole gift-giving to take place.

“oh, yeah, the real thingamabobber. here ya go.” With no pomp or circumstance at all, Sans reaches into his right hoodie pocket, pulls a ticket out, and slaps it into your hand, on top of the toilet paper. You hold it up close to read the text.

**“METALLICA: LIVE AND ACOUSTIC IN THE UNDERGROUND. FEBRUARY 13, 9:00 PM, FRONT ROW.”**

_Front row_.

“…S-S-S-Sans, how did you-”

“knew ya really wanted to go, and that’s all that was left. never been to a concert before, so why the heck shouldn’t i throw all the bells ‘n whistles on? don’t think the opening band’s named bells ‘n whistles, though, that’d really raise hell’s bells.” Wrong band, but that’s besides the point.

“…Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” You pull Sans in for another hug, and his incredibly light frame makes him get pulled off the ground.

You’d been wanting to go to this show ever since tickets were announced a couple months ago, but they went for sale while you were at work, and had sold out by the time you’d gotten back. Metallica’s the first surface band to set a show in the Underground, and it’s an acoustic performance, of all things. You’d really wanted to see them, and had thought it was a lost hope after it sold out that quickly, but not anymore! Your wonderful bonefriend, best friend, and all other types of friend went ahead and got this for you, and in the front row, no less!

“protag, ya really seem to have a thing for lifting me. don’t know where ya got the habit.”

“From being around you, you goof.” Once the initial buzz levels out a bit, you realize something else.

“Hey, you got tickets for yourself and Papyrus, too, right?”

“yup. didn’t want ya getting eaten by the crowd.”

“…Eaten?”

“yup. at a monster concert, everyone brings their forks and knives, and-”

“OKAY, I’M INTERRUPTING YOU RIGHT THERE. DON’T LISTEN TO HIM, PROTAG, YOUR BONEFRIEND’S TRYING AND FAILING TO JOKE ABOUT MONSTER CROWDS. BY EATING, HE MEANS GETTING SWALLOWED UP IN THE SWARM. MONSTERS SURE LOVE TO MOVE WITH THE MUSIC, AS YOU’VE SEEN.”

“welp. there goes the thought of seeing you come to the show with a full suit of armor.”

“Why would I need the armor? You’re already my knight in a not shining hoodie, Sans.” Chuckling, he presses his forehead up to yours and starts rubbing, as you return the favor. Sparks of magic can be felt over the whole area he covers, as well as the jolts of excitement your soul gets.

“So… um… what’d you make for dinner, Papyrus?” The last thing you’d wanna do is not include Papyrus in your talks.

“GNOCCHI PASTA, ADORNED WITH OILS AND SUN DRIED TOMATOES! DON’T ASK HOW THE TOMATOES DRY WITHOUT A SUN. I DON’T KNOW, EITHER.”

“Woah, sounds great! First time making it?”

“YEP! ANOTHER FIELD FOR ME TO WORK TOWARDS MASTERING.” His cape waves on its own again, making you wonder if Rocko has another sentient friend in the house.

“hey, protag.”

“Yeah?”

“ask me if anything’s better than gnocchi.” He looks off to the side of his brother, with a now sly grin.

“Ok. Is anything better than gnocchi?”

“gno.”

“SANS, YOUR JOKES… THEY…”

“They gnow gno end?”

“gnope. and they gnever will.”

Stars, you love this skeleton. Somehow, he seems to love you just as much as the jokes his brother endures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was given some absolutely amazing fan art from guro_kuro, who goes by @yr40899532 on Twitter! Please check it out, they gave it amazing attention to detail, and I want everyone to get to love this like I have. Thanks a bunch for the wonderful surprise! https://twitter.com/yr40899532/status/1263677156556705792?s=21


	27. Enter Sansman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've finally made the discovery. With your new knowledge of how souls work, you know that if your bond with Sans persists, you'll end up with seemingly endless happy and healthy years together. If that wasn't enough, your bonefriend has surprised you with tickets to the Metallica show in New Home in a few weeks. Between the joy your soul has, and the power of the upcoming band, it's seeming like a day that'll never be forgotten. Skeletons truly are the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter taking as long as it has, stuff's gotten busier as of late, but I'm glad I can share it now! Thank you for waiting for this long, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Reminder that your name goes wherever 'Protag' is!)

**Chapter 27 – Enter Sansman**

The next few weeks are a blend of some of the slowest and fastest time you can think of. With the trifecta of excitement for what your future with Sans could be, the acoustic Metallica show in a few weeks, and the thought of seeing your bonefriend for the bulk of each Saturday, the weekdays themselves seem to trudge on. It’s not that you’re liking your work any less than you had before, but when you’ve got the choice between thinking about the cardboard boxes you’re facing, and the most adorkable skeleton dude you could ever know, it’s an easy call to make.

On the flip side, when you do get those Sansturdays with Sans, and sometimes his brother as well, it seems like your watch is buzzing for you to return home as soon as you’ve arrived. That’s not saying you aren’t making the most of your time together, though. Whether it be relaxing on the old couch and watching something on their big TV, making wonderful snow creations in the front yard, paying a visit to the snowman west of town, or anything else, each day you can spend together seems to bring you closer and closer. Your snow creations in particular create a memory that you’re sure you’ll never forget.

You’d had some creative ideas for what sort of snow creature you’d wanted to make, but Sans decided that he’d prefer to make a “self-portrait” of a lump of snow, with ‘Sans’ written in red marker. With how crucial it is to you that you don’t influence Sans to be someone he isn’t, you don’t say anything against his design. There’s a nice aura to the simplicity anyway. You do get one idea, though, that you can’t avoid suggesting to him.

“Sans, what if you wrote your name in ketchup, instead of marker? Could stick a lot better.”

“…hold that thought, professor.” Walking back into the house and leaving you on your own for a good twenty seconds, Sans returns from around the back side of the house, because he’s him, now with a bottle of ketchup in hand.

“lessee if you’re right.” With his hand covered by a white mitten that you really hope won’t end up with a stain, Sans squirts his name over the marker, somehow keeping the stream of ketchup fairly consistent. Just a minute later, his name is popping far better than the marker was, and once it freezes, it should definitely hold up.

“huh. didn’t know you’re actually a scientist protag. if ya wanted to use the lab, i’d let ya, as long as you know the triple super-secret codeword.”

“Nah, that lab’s for you and your fireworks. This isn’t something I learned from surface experience, just thought I’d help you make your wonderful creation as great as can be. In fact…” Dropping to your knees next to Sans’ pile, you begin to push your own pile of snow together.

“Your snow deserves a friend.”

“nah, not just a friend. a boyfreeze.”

“Yes, let’s force a relationship on them.”

“eh, they’ll be perfect together. worth it.” Working ‘hard’, you build up the snow pile until it’s around as big as Sans’, and don’t take any time to work out the differently shaped lumps.

“Alright, just needs one more thing.” Without looking, you reach your hand back for the bottle.

“on it.” Rather than providing the bottle, though, Sans provides a snowball, thrown right at the back of the head.

“Y-you…”

“me…”

“…I could never be mad. If anyone’s gonna chuck snow at me, I’d prefer it’s you.”

“yeah, you don’t want it being my brother. He’d throw it hard enough to send you on a flight back to the surface. don’t think that was your plans for the day.”

“Oh, geez, no. If it’s not going somewhere with my bonefriend, I don’t need an ounce of that.”

“here, take sixteen ounces of this instead.” This time, Sans really does give you the ketchup bottle, and you do your best to cleanly spell out your name on it. There’s just enough snow in your pile to include all your letters, and while the letters might be a little more wobbly than Sans’, given all his hot dog work, you can’t say you were expecting to be as talented as him.

“Well, whaddya think?”

“…perfect. if rocko wasn’t inside to scare any buyers away, these two would wind up in a museum together. world’s first boyfreezes.”

“Wait, you just gave me an excellent idea!” Gently scooping up more snow, you make a tiny pile between Sans’ and your own. It only takes about half a minute, and then you squirt ‘Rocko’ over it. It’s not as easy as it seems at first thought, with how small the letters have to be, but with enough effort, you manage to make it work. After finishing off the last letter, you get off of your knees to proudly stare at the snow family you and Sans have made. Instinctively, you throw your arm around Sans’ far shoulder as you continue to look.

“How do they look to you? Truly heart-warming to me, in its own frigid way.”

Sans doesn’t respond. Usually, he’d take that as a cue to dive into his own pun realm, but he’s not doing anything. His silence is quickly concerning, so you turn to look at him.

“Sans? Hun? You okay?”

There’s some tears swelling up in his eye sockets. At first, you think it’s the cold air hitting them, but you then quickly remember how Sans has lived in this town for a long while, as well as that Sans wouldn’t tear from the cold the same way a human would. He is only made of bones, after all.

“…it’s so good. the three of us, in my snow style…” He has to rub his eye sockets with a snow-covered sleeve.

“i never thought someone else would actually want to make snow sculptures the way i do. all the others i’d see have some sorta style to them. ya promise you’re not only doing it this way to see me smile?”

“Nope, your snow piles are really inspiring. Sculptures have all that attention to detail put into them show a perfect product, but no monster or human’s got completely smoothed out lines. We’re all way more like these lumps of snow, with our unique lumps, than any other sculpture.”

“that’s way deeper than i coulda gone.”

“Too much?”

“nope, not at all. you’re completely right. here, wanna see just how right you are?”

“I don’t need any extra proof, but if you’ve got something in mind, I’m sure not gonna say no.” Apparently, ‘seeing how right you are’ means getting your head turned to face his.

“the answer’s right here, bucko.” He uses his other hand to point towards his teeth.

“O-oh… oh, geez… of course I wanna go over that answer sheet.” Pressing your lips onto his teeth, the two of you share a passionate smooch, being careful to not step onto the new snow family. You’re well bundled up for the cold, so it’s hard to feel Sans’ hands pressing onto you, but the warmness and magical jitters coming off from his teeth sure do the trick. Learning how to make out with a set of magic teeth has proven to be easier than expected, as Sans’ skull around his mouth keeps its lock with your lips, but without losing the smile that you and him are sharing. Even in the middle of the smooch, there’s no way you couldn’t be grinning ear to ear.

“eheheh, you’re sure it’s alright we’re doin’ this in front of the pet? don’t wanna scare it away.” You might not be able to talk back, but hearing Sans be able to talk in the middle of something like this is always completely sweet. The only way you can think of answering back is making a thumbs up out of one of the hands that’s wrapped behind Sans, and tapping his back with it. He seems to get the message, and continues to smooch away.

Naturally, the tingling of your soul rose up as soon as you and him began to enjoy each other’s smiles up close and personal, and the longer you get after it, the more warming the tingling gets. While Sans has his simple passions, like his hot dogs and his comedy, it’s rare for you to see him do a singular thing like this where this much of the passion comes out. Your snow sculptures are lumps of snow with ketchup on them, so that’s not much in the way of needing lots of thinking, but he really seems to be wanting as much mutual comfort as possible right now. The waves of passion seem to be what’s getting your soul as stirred up as it is, and you can’t recall any prior times it’s gotten this far.

Could this be what the book was talking about? It sure feels like your soul’s slamming at the gates, wanting to let something out. Making sure to not force anything, you keep returning your smiles and soft moans with your bonefriend, letting everything else in your mind slip away. Eventually, though, you have no choice but to let to go to take in some air, and Sans wouldn’t want you risking your health over a deep smooch, so you let go, now staring eye to eye socket with him again, and with a burning feeling in both cheeks.

“…Thank you. Never thought before I met you that kissing a stationary set of teeth would feel so good.”

“guess the snow pet rock knows now. it got a front row seat. when it goes off and finds a snow skeleton someday, it’ll know what to do.”

“But won’t it- oh, wait. It’s always freezing here, it’ll never melt.”

“yup. say hello to your new permanent lawn fixtures.”

“Well, as long as that dog doesn’t come by again and-”

“woah, woah, protag. don’t go saying stuff like that in front of the pet. do you really wanna go and traumatize it?”

“Pffff, look at you, being such a proactive pet parent. Surprised you haven’t poured any sprinkles on it.”

“they’ll need their own bottle. if i used rocko’s for this one, i’d never hear the end of it.” Not seeing a point in asking how Rocko could discuss something like that and risk breaking the flow, you wrap an arm around Sans’ shoulder and watch over your snow lumps together, as the intense buzzing in your soul pulls back to more of a gentle throb. Days like this are what make the work week completely worth it, and then some.

* * *

At long last, after all of the nerved up waiting, it finally comes: February 13, the day of the concert. Of course, with it being a week day, you weren’t able to get out of your shift, so for the bulk of the morning and afternoon, you’ll be on customer service duty throughout the aisles. Maybe it’ll get your energies moving for the show, and it is more money to make you feel less bad for the money you’ll put down on shirts, so it’s not all bad. Given Sans’ generosity, you’re gonna make sure to get them each a show shirt there. It’s an easy way to remember the event, and maybe you’d get the chance to see Papyrus in a new style.

Instead of the typical ICE-E’s Brand Cereal, though, you have something special for the important day. Papyrus froze some pancakes for you, and somehow managed to send them in the mail in one piece, so you thaw them out in the microwave before coating some syrup and butter on. Despite the freezing and the travel, they prove to be really fluffy, and despite having a bit of a noodly aftertaste from what you figure is the same pots and pans that’re used for his usual cooking, the time and effort’s very much appreciated. You fire a thank you text his way for the breakfast, which he replies with an emphatic “WHY, THANK YOU, PROTAG! EXPECT MORE EXPERIENCES FROM MY KITCHEN TO YOURS, VERY, VERY SOON”, giving you another new thing to look forward to, as you get you wash up your plate, throw your work clothes on, and make your way to your shift.

Walking along the all-familiar way to work, Sans shoots a morning text your way. You’re glad your shifts never start real early in the morning, stars forbid he were to get up early to send you one. That’d be the worst form of manipulation.

**“heya, protag. ready for some wood tonight?”**

**“Wood?” **That’s… erm… not what you were expecting.

**“yeah. the concert’s gonna be a big load a wood. hope you’re ready to get choppin’.”**

Huh. Well, that takes out _that_ possibility, but you’re still not sure what he means.

**“Sorry, Sans, but you’re really _stumping_ me with this.”**

**“another trophy. ya better send that g in the mail soon, or they’re be hell to _pay_. it’s a metal band, but they’re playing on wood.”**

**“Oooooh, right, right. Wanna work together to see if Papyrus can figure that out later?”**

**“heh, sure thing. he ain’t a wooden fellow, he should be creative enough to chip it together.”**

**“Ahaha, this is just what I needed before punching in. You’re the best, hun.”**

**“heh, only the best get reserved for ya, protag. see ya at seven.”** Since the show’s in New Home, you figured it made the most sense for Sans and Papyrus to meet up with you here, rather than travelling to their place, only to come back. You’re still being invited over for the night afterwards, though, so that’ll be a nice treat.

Either from the perfect flow of customers coming in and out, your excitement for tonight, or both, your work shift’s your favorite of the year so far. Quite a few customers are already decked out in their own attire for the show, giving you plenty to talk about as you direct them to where they need to go, and advise them on certain products. There’s even a Temmie that comes in, and as you’re directing them to where the carpet section is, you notice that they’ve got a Metallica shirt on as well.

“Ah, are you going to the show tonight, too?”

“YeS! TEm will fil themselvz with… thRAsh!” Maybe asking wasn’t the best idea.

“With all due respect, you know it’s an acoustic concert, right?”

“YeS! TEm will fil themselvz with… thRAsh!” You see it best to end that talk there.

Lunch doesn’t have more mailed Papyrus food, but the sandwich you packed is good enough, and it gives you the brain energy to try to figure out why Sans sent you a picture of his floor, with no caption.

**“What does this mean?”**

**“remember that challenge with the sock and the notes?”**

**“Yeah?”**

**“came to an end. what a tragedy.”**

**“Oh, no! What happened?”**

**“my brother was cleaning up all those books from new year’s, and scooped it up by accident. hadn’t gotten to grabbing them all ‘til now, said he wanted to do some reading to motivate him for next year’s festival.”**

**“Things alright with you two?”**

**“oh, yeah, i’m not ticked at him at all. things happen. he still insisted on promising me an ice cream run in a few minutes, though.”**

**“Glad everything’s smooth, hope the ice cream hits the spot. The three of us can figure out something to fill the space of that game. Really impressive you and him kept it going that long.”**

**“thanks, i’ll get over it. won’t let this sock it to me.”**

**“Geez, yeah, my bonefriend’s too cute to need _stitches_ from that.”**

**“my bonefriend’s grown so far with these. love ya, hun.”**

**“Love you, too. <3”** Best you can do to replicate a soul. Looking at the clock, you almost do a spittake when you see that there’s only three minutes left in your break, leading you to practically shove the rest of the sandwich down your throat before getting back to the aisles. You make a mental note to give each bone bro an especially tight hug when you see them later tonight, if not having their sock challenge anymore is bugging them.

The rest of your shift goes on as you’d expect, with the occasional monster coming in with a shirt of the band. The New Home Arena, where the show’s being held, can fit thousands of patrons, so it makes sense that a lot are gonna come by to get their lamps and canoes first. It’s the Underground. Things like that don’t phase you one bit anymore.

You’re kept busy enough to let the time move along, despite all your thinking about the show, and six in the evening approaches fairly quickly. Thinking about the upcoming show makes your punch out and walk back to the apartment with way less awareness of your surroundings than usual, nearly leading to you bumping into Woshua on the street. Your earlier store efforts have done enough to regain his respect, so you’d really rather not do something to end that.

Arriving back at the hotel, you try to think of something quick to munch down on before getting dressed and leaving again to meet up with Sans and Papyrus for the show. If this was half a year ago, you would’ve considered microwaving a hot dog, but ever since you’d taken a bite of Sans’ cooking, the thought of buying frozen ones from the grocery store seemed blasphemous, even if he wouldn’t care at all. There’s much better ‘dog memories to preserve, rather than ‘dogs with preservatives. Instead, in a moment of brief symbolism that no one but you in the world would ever notice or care about, you pull the noodle cup flavor out of the cupboard that you’d been considering having on the night you decided to eat at the hotel instead. Not having this kind of noodle cup is what allowed this wonderful bond to start, so it’s only fair to return the favor to the noodles now.

Slurping away at the noodles a few minutes later makes your mind go to some what-if points. Life sure would’ve been a lot different if you’d chosen these noodles over that show that night, and never happened to be there the same time Sans is. Your life in the Underground certainly hadn’t been bad by any means before you met him; the culture and daily lifestyles had already made each day new and exciting. Your bond with Sans is what’s really opened up the true beauty of Underground life to you, though. Not going to that show would’ve meant so much of this place may have not had reason to be explored, and given how much the society here is propelled by love and compassion, not having that with someone would mean so much would be missed out on.

There isn’t much to be accomplished by wondering what things would be like without Sans, though. You’ve got a friend that completely naturally and wonderfully became your boyfriend as well, there’s no one around that’d judge something as harmless as a dude like yourself loving another dude, and your soul is experiencing things you’d never thought would be possible for it before this bond began. You get so caught up in thought that it comes as a bit of a surprise when there’s no more noodles in the cup, and you use that surprise to not make any haste as you wash it out and throw it in the recycling bin, before getting your outfit for the concert ready.

There’s a simple black shirt in the closet with the Metallica logo spread across, which is an easy choice for the night. Some navy jeans and sneakers round out the ‘makeshift Metallidude’ look, as you look at the mirror. Given the philosophy on outfits that Sans and Papyrus each have in their own ways, you figure they’ll wear what they always do, which you’re fine with. It’s hard to miss a blue hoodie and bright white battle body in the midst of a packed crowd. If you happen to get lost in the shuffle… well… Papyrus is tall, it’d probably work out. That’s not a bridge you feel like mentally crossing right now. Before leaving, you send both skeletons the street corner you want to meet up on, and then look back at your bed and kitchen area. Your gut tells you that the excitement from tonight is something that’ll make you overjoyed the next time you’re in this room, and you see no reason to disagree, as you leave the familiar room.

Tonight’s not like New Year’s, where everyone was getting ready for the same thing, so the streets aren’t the same kind of feeling that that day had. You can still tell who’s on their way to the show, though, given the clothes, and the excitement that’s showing on their faces. For the monsters that didn’t travel much on the surface, this is the first time in their potentially very long lives that they’ve gotten to see surface performers like this. Sans and Papyrus hadn’t talked about seeing any humans perform before, so this could very well be the first time for them, too. The corner you asked them to meet up with you on isn’t all that far from the apartment, so you find a spot away from the flow of traffic. Just a couple minutes later, the white of their bones can be seen through the rest of the crowd. As you expected, they’re each wearing their own attire, as Papyrus walks with a confident stride, and your bonefriend walks with his hands in his hoodie pockets, and a bit of a slouch. Maybe he’s conserving his energy for more movement, like his New Year’s outburst.

“Sans! Papyrus! Great to see both of you here in New Home!” Seemingly on cue, an undershirt flies out of a window, and smacks you on the head. It doesn’t smell the greatest.

“welp. looks like someone’s in for a fun time.”

“CAN’T BE MORE FUN THAN OURS! I’VE BEEN LISTENING TO THIS BAND’S MUSIC TO GET ME INVESTED.” You take a moment to get your hair back in order, hoping that shirt isn’t going to leave you with a weird smell for the rest of the night, before answering Papyrus.

“What’ve you thought of them?”

“THEY’RE GREAT! HEAVIER THAN WHAT I DO WHEN I’M BUILDING THINGS, SINCE THAT’S ONE EASY WAY TO MAKE A PUZZLE TOO DANGEROUS. PUZZLES TO GET THE MIND THINKING AND HEAVY LYRICS DON’T MIX.”

“are they what ya listened to when ya made the gauntlet, then?” Gauntlet?

“CLOSE. SLIPKNOT.”

“Huh. Didn’t think I’d learn today that my cool friend’s listened to Slipknot before.”

“YOUR NEW FACTOID OF THE DAY! I’VE LET MYSELF GET TOO OFF TOPIC, THOUGH. THIS BAND’S VERY IMPRESSIVE, AND I ADMIRE HOW THEY’VE TRIED SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS AS THEY GO ALONG.”

“yup, cause we’re the ones to talk about that.” Sans taps the chest of his brother’s battle body.

“SANS! YOU AND I TRY DIFFERENT THINGS, JUST NOT WITH CLOTHES. WE’RE BEING MORE ENVIRONMENTALLY FRIENDLY WITH OUR ATTIRE, ANYWAY.”

“heh, ya win that one.”

“Sans, how’ve we gone this long without squeezing each other?”

“no idea. let’s fix that.” Grabbing at Sans’ much lighter back, you draw him in for a warm hug, complete with you and him each supplying the other with an uncoordinated smooch on the forehead. You’re so, so relieved that you can do this with the dude of your dreams without anyone turning a rude look at it, and that Sans got to grow up somewhere that that’s never a concern. He wouldn’t have deserved anything less.

“Oh, wait! Papyrus, please join in. Heard about the, uh… thing with your challenge earlier. Wanted to help you know it’s definitely not your fault.”

“AH, THAT. I’M FEELING BETTER ABOUT IT, BUT IF A HUG INVITATION’S BEEN SENT, I CAN RVSP AND ARRIVE IMMEDIATELY.” Bending his knees a bit to reach, Papyrus throws his long arms around the two of you, as you hope that it helps him feel better. You’d been tempted to make a joke about it sounding like a really sticky situation, but it could be best to wait a day or two for that one.

“THIS IS VERY NICE, BUT WE BETTER GET GOING. THERE’S THREE FRONT ROW SPOTS CALLING OUR NAMES!”

“alright. maybe the sequel can come soon.” You all let go, managing to not mess up anyone’s balance in the process, and begin to walk to the arena together.

“Later, you’ve got to tell me what that gauntlet’s about, though.”

“WILL DO! IS THERE ANYTHING YOU’LL WANT TO EAT WHEN WE GET THERE?”

“No thanks, I already ate at home. At least from my surface experience, arena food can get real pricey. Sans already bought the tickets, anyway, no one should be buying anything else for me.”

“FINE, FINE, IF YOU INSIST ON HAVING THAT MUCH GRATITUDE. WE TOOK THE SAME STRATEGY YOU DID. THERE’S TOO MUCH FUN TO BE HAD IN THE FRONT ROW TO SPEND IT WAITING IN LINES!”

“you’re not a waiting in lines enthusiast?”

“NOT AS FAR AS I CAN RECALL, BROTHER.”

“If it’s not waiting for New Year’s festival food, then I’m not a waiting in lines enthusiast, either. There is one line we’re waiting through, though. You’re each getting a shirt on me, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“we don’t even have butts. that last one’s arbitrary.”

“DON’T BOUNCE AROUND PROTAG’S VERY GENEROUS OFFER, SANS! HE’S GETTING SOMETHING FOR YOU THAT I’M SURE YOU’LL WANT TO HOLD ONTO FOREVER.”

“heh, yeah, i’m just ribbing with ya. that’s real nice, i’ll make sure to pick one that’s worth your dough.” The skeleton brothers continue to walk down the roads with you, with your hand and Sans’ clenched together, and Papyrus eagerly walking right behind. Having someone a head taller than you through a busy crowd like this sure is a good insurance.

A couple more turns around some blocks, and you find yourselves facing the New Home Arena. It’s one of the biggest buildings in New Home, as well as in the Underground, for that matter; it’s in the shape of a typical arena building you’d see on the surface, but built with the same sort of stone that the rest of the skyline’s made of, to let it fit in. There’s a jubilant crowd moving through the front doors, as well as slightly more humans than you’d usually see at an event. The tickets had been made exclusive to Underground buyers, so all the monsters that wanted to go could get the opportunity, but as per normal for big ticket shows like this, some people must’ve gotten as far as bringing their computers down here, just to place the order.

“BROTHER, YOU’VE GOT THE TICKETS, RIGHT?”

“yup.” Reaching into his left hoodie pocket, Sans pulls out the same toilet paper he used on you a few weeks ago, and sticks it in his brother’s red-gloved hand. After seeing his expression become frozen in fear, he pulls the real ticket out and gives that to him, too, so he doesn’t have to manage with a passed out sibling in front of the venue.

“sorry, bro. didn’t mean to wipe your emotions out.”

“…IT’S OK. THE TOILET PAPER’S ONLY FOR PROTAG, ANYWAY, SO I GUESS I SHOULDN’T HAVE THOUGHT YOU COULD’VE SOMEHOW MISTAKEN THE TWO.”

“easy mistake.” Handing you a ticket as well, you enjoy the short moment of your hand touching up with Sans’ again more than someone from the outside would think you would, and he pulls his own out. There’s a few minutes of waiting in the entry line, and the surrounding chatter’s so loud that you don’t bother to strike up anymore conversation before it’s your turns to get your tickets scanned. When you get to the front, you’re surprised to see that Monster Adolescent, the monster that seated you and Sans at your second dinner a couple of months ago, is working here as well, as they take your tickets to scan them.

“Hey! I recognize you two from Bhodeck! Did ya like the food?”

“Oh, plenty. All those different types of sushi were excellent.”

“yup, the boyfriend said it way better than i could. which is great, cause i don’t feel like finding a synonym for excellent.” Fearing that you and Sans could enter a tennis match of jokes that’d hold the line up, Papyrus quickly holds out his ticket to be scanned, to get you and his brother moving along.

“Hope you enjoy the show, buckos!” Rather than trying to shout over the crowd, you wave in their direction as you and the skeletons pass through the front doors and enter the concourses. It sure feels different than it did on the walk; seemingly everyone that can fit one on their body has a shirt for the band on, and others are simply dealing with things like shoulders on the shirt that aren’t needed, and are letting them hang on their own. The shirt stand’s the only spot that you have any need to get to before getting to your spots on the floor, so you don’t risk missing any of the opening band, so you push your way through the crowd as politely as possible to make it to the line, Sans and Papyrus in tow.

“Any of them catch your eye sockets yet?” Papyrus brings a hand to his chin and looks over the options. Nearly all of them are designed specifically for this show, with most of them being Metallica’d versions of places in the Underground. There’s one in particular that grabs his attention, though.

“OOH! THAT ONE!” He points at the one that has the traditional Metallica ‘scary dude’ skull, ominously looking over New Home. You hadn’t thought of Papyrus as someone that’d want a shirt that’s that gritty, but considering he admires a painting in his home that’s nothing but a bone, it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise.

“Great, I’ll make sure the one I get is in your size. What about you, Sans?”

“…hmm.” He takes longer to look over the choices, before spotting one in the top right corner.

“that.” Your bonefriend tries to point at it, but he’s too short in the crowd, for you to be able to figure out what it is.

“Here, lemme give you a lift.” You put yourself under Sans’ legs, like you did on New Year’s, and lift him up so he can point easier at the choices. It might be covering the view of whoever’s behind you, but it means they can look at Sans’ lovely hoodie for a few seconds. Nothing to complain about whatsoever.

“heheh, thanks, buddy. gonna have to call security, since you’re violating my space, but it’s still a nice view. that one.” He points again, and you see that it’s a simple shirt that says “Metallica: Live in the Underground”… with the Metallica logo in wood.

“…Gosh darn it, you.” The two of you snicker, thinking back to your text exchange from earlier.

“YOU TWO FIND THE STRANGEST THINGS TO LAUGH ABOUT.”

“eh, i’ll tell ya later. you’ll like it, too.” It’s about to be your turn in line, so you lower Sans back down to the ground, and approach the monster behind the table. They’ve got a really neat hat, and their boots seem to be floating above the ground, so they must know a thing or two about fashion. Usually, you’d try to strike up some conversation, but with how many people are waiting behind you, now’s not the time. Looking at the size chart and giving your best judgment on what each skeleton’s shoulders work best with, you ask for the smallest adult size you can for Sans, the biggest adult size you can for Papyrus, and for yourself, you get the one with the Master of Puppets hands over the Underground. They’re sort of pricey, but you gladly hand over the G for it, given the designs, and who you’re getting them for. After you say thanks and leave the line, though, you realize a problem.

“Wait. We’re gonna have to keep these in our hands the whole time, aren’t we? There’s no seats for us to put these under.”

“NOT TO WORRY!” Taking the shirts from your hands, Papyrus pulls his battle body chest piece forward, and drops the shirts in the hole on top. You can hear them thump in the bottom.

“…That’s not uncomfortable?”

“NOPE! THINK OF IT AS EXTRA PADDING, FOR THE BATTLE WE’RE ABOUT TO BE SWARMED IN.” Grateful that you won’t have to deal with a shirt over your shoulder for the whole show, the three of you press through the concourses and make your way to the floor seats. Gleefully, you walk past all the standing rows that are taped off, until you find your spots, positioned right in the middle of the front. The stage has a very simple design to it: a white tarp in the background that you figure lights will be shined onto, some stools that’ll be used for the band to sit on, and a drum kit, silently waiting to be played.

As you look to the left, though, something that isn’t part of the skeleton brothers’ topics catches your attention. There’s a big, muscly dude on the other side of the barricade, discussing something with the people around him. He seems… very, very irritated by something. You do your best to listen.

“Why’re you asking me?! I can’t magically make them appear here!” It’s not clear what he means.

“How was I supposed to know he’d go down sick? Just three hours ago, we still had it blocked out they’d be here!” Still hard to tell what he’s talking about.

“Well, this is just wonderful. The show starts in less than an hour, and our opening act isn’t here!” Oh. Now it makes perfect sense, but… darn.

“Again, I don’t know why you’re asking me that. I’m just a crew leader, I can’t walk up to the mic and tell this crowd they won’t have an opening act to warm them up. Besides, they’re almost all monsters, how’re we supposed to know how they’d act about something like that?” You’ve listened in enough, as you turn back towards Sans and Papyrus.

“Guys, bad news. Heard someone working for the show, they said someone from the opening act’s sick, and the first band can’t make it.”

“huh. sick of us?”

“Don’t think so. From what I could make out, they were expecting them all to be here, but they’re not. We’re gonna have more waiting to do before we hear any music.”

“WELL, THAT STINKS! TO THINK THAT FIRST BAND COULD’VE EXPERIENCED SOME NEW CULTURE, BUT DIDN’T.”

“yeah, they could’ve gotten to hear all my fantastic jokes.”

“SANS, AS GREAT OF A RECEPTION YOUR COMEDY GETS, I DON’T THINK THAT’S THE SOLE REASON THEY WERE PLANNING TO TRAVEL HERE.”

“Wait, wait… Sans’ jokes…” You look at Papyrus, he looks at you, and both of you then look towards the crew guy. The same idea hit at the same time.

“Sans? You’re the one that knows how to entertain on a stage. How does in front of five thousand people sound?”

“me? in front of this wood crowd?”

“Yep! Your humor would be perfect for keeping them all smiling, even if that other band’s not around. If we can somehow convince him, would you be up for that?” Sans looks down at his slippers for a few seconds in thought, before making up his mind.

“why the heck not. i only usually do shows in bars and pubs, so i’ll just think of this as a really, really, really big pub.”

“WITH SECURITY AND TICKETED ADMISSION.”

“exactly. so, how’re we gonna get that bozo to hear us?” An idea quickly sparks to mind, and you’re not sure if it’s something that could get you kicked out, but for the potential to watch your boyfriend perform on such a big stage, you’ll gladly go for it. Grabbing the top of the barricade in front of you, you begin to repeatedly slam it onto the ground.

“Hey, sir! Sir, we’ve got something to say to you!” Your voice isn’t making it out much, compared to the rest of the crowd. Noticing this, and wanting to lend a hand- no, a vocal cord- no, whatever a skeleton’s ‘vocal cord’ is, Papyrus joins the barricade slamming and calls to him as well.

“EXCUSE ME! GENTLEMAN IN THE COOL TOUR T-SHIRT!! THERE’S SOMETHING YOU HAVE TO HEAR IMMEDIATELY!!” With the height you and Papyrus are lifting the barricade with, Sans isn’t able to reach, so he quietly stands between the two of you, watching it happen. The noise from the metal hitting the floor is now loud enough to pierce through the crowd, and the man that seems to be the head of the crew notices as well, swinging his head and revealing just how big and bushy his beard is.

“YES, YOU! THERE’S SOMETHING GREATLY IMPORTANT YOU NEED TO HEAR!” He seems more annoyed than anything else, and you can’t really blame him, given what he seems to be dealing with, but he makes his way over anyway. As he draws closer, you and Papyrus quietly discuss how you’ll make this work.

“PSSST. PROTAG. EXPLAIN HOW WONDERFUL MY BROTHER’S COMEDY IS, AND OPEN THE DOOR FOR HIM TO GIVE A LINE. IF THAT DOESN’T WORK, I’LL LET MYSELF BE BAIT FOR EVEN MORE OF HIS JOKES.”

“Great, I’ll let him know.” You whisper the little scheme to Sans right before the man arrives, as you turn to now find yourself face to face with him.

“You two better have a real good reason for interrupting my work.”

“We sure do, actually. I heard what you said about the opening act not being here.”

“I- er- guess I was being too loud about that. Don’t go telling everyone, we still don’t know how we’re working this out. I don’t understand why you had to pull me over here, since you _clearly_ must have seen how busy I am, trying to sort out this fine mess.”

“Well, we’ve got the solution right here!” You pull your very light bonefriend in front of you, who has to look up high to make eye contact with the crew leader.

“Come again? Showing me this… skeleton is gonna make all my problems break away?” Sans makes a throat clearing noise, before diving into what he does best.

“well, the **baseline** of this whole thing’s that you can’t **band** together an answer, buddyo. lucky for you, i can **strap** this whole crowd in for a **rocking **time. might be a **solo** act, but havin’ anyone else on stage would just **snare** me, anyway.” He stops and holds a wink with a big smile, leaving the crew leader completely speechless and in thought for a good twenty seconds or so.

“…Those better not be your only jokes.” He grabs the barricade and pulls it back far enough for Sans to walk through.

“Thank you, sir! You sure won’t be disappointed!” You quickly take Sans’ hands.

“Ready for this? Your brother and I believe in you.”

“almost. if i don’t get some bonefriend attention, i dunno if i’ll have the energy to get on stage.” Always willing to accept a request like that, you lean forward and leave a big smooch over Sans’ teeth, getting his face all warmed up.

“…stars, you’ve got so much passion behind that. one of the many reasons i love ya. time for a show in the biggest pub you’ve ever seen.” Stepping through the newly made gap, Sans’ slippers slap their way to the side of the stage, where there’s a set of steps that he takes to make his way up. The crew leader shouts at someone to quickly flick some switches for the center microphone to be active, which they do, leaving Sans with all the equipment he needs, as he finishes his brief journey. As soon as he makes it to the middle, the crowd goes from its loud chatter to silence. From what they can recall, a skeleton certainly wasn’t on the docket for what they’d be seeing tonight. An occasional cough or phone buzz can now be heard as clear as day, as Sans stands on the stage, doing absolutely nothing.

“…Papyrus, why isn’t he doing anything?”

“IT’S SANS BEING SANS, PROTAG. I THOUGHT YOU’D KNOW THAT BY NOW. THIS IS HOW HE GETS THE CROWD RIGHT IN THE PALM OF HIS HANDS.” Sans continues to work his ‘strategy’, while the crowd continues to watch him without a word, before he pulls down the microphone to his height and speaks.

“heya. guess you’re all wondering why some weirdo’s loitering on stage.” His deep, lovely voice loudly bounces over all the walls. The back of the upper deck heard what he said just as well as the front row.

“so, uh, that opening band that’s on your ticket stubs? they ain’t here. maybe they’re anti-slipper, or something.” There’s a few laughs in the crowd, but more of the sound’s unhappiness, which is completely reasonable. It may not be the main act that’s missing, but they’d been expecting two bands, not one.

“so, after making enough racket that was totally done from my own effort, i got called on to spare you all from boredom. guess being all noisy really is the way to go, kids.” He looks at you and Papyrus throughout, knowing you’re the reasons any of that noise happened in the first place. Some cheers from kids can be heard, apparently pleased to hear Sans’ words of encouragement.

“now that that’s outta the way, get ready to deal with me for the next…” He pulls his right hoodie sleeve up to look at his watch that doesn’t actually exist, staring at the bones instead, before turning his attention back to the microphone.

“half hour.” His bluntness about staring at nothing and giving a time gets some of the crowd laughing, helping your optimism that Sans can definitely pull this crowd out of feeling bummed the other band’s not here.

“so, uh, i didn’t really get to make a plan until i slipped up here-” He takes the chance to raise up one of his slippers- “-but i figure i can still getcha all in tune. you like music, right?” Running off the energies for the upcoming show, the word ‘music’ is enough to send some of the crowd into a jumping frenzy. You’re really hoping Temmie didn’t somehow convince anyone else that it’s an electric thrash performance from Metallica tonight.

“well, i happen to be a bit of a musician myself. i play a whole one and a half instruments.” He winks in your direction as he says that, as you figure the half instrument is the single song on guitar he learned for you. You feel honored to be one of the two members of the audience to not be stumped by what that means.

Sans goes on to tell the same story about his first trombone lesson that you’d heard when you first saw him do what he does best at the hotel. Usually, he doesn’t repeat jokes like this, but given the nature of the crowd, anything music related wouldn’t hurt. As you figured they would, they all laugh at the ‘bad to the bone’ part, leaving you assured that your bonefriend already has his audience right where he wants them. He begins to work through the rest of the half hour without an ounce of pressure showing on his face, making no motion at all, aside from his arms. Most of the rest is new material, and there’s one subject in particular that catches you by complete surprise.

“huh, almost forgot to mention my trip to the guitar store with my boyfriend. bonefriend’s the better term, though, don’t need to constantly point out that he’s a dude. it’s like being a skeleton, and always bringing up bones in your jokes. if i saw someone doing that, i’d need something like a metal barricade to keep him away.” His vision then drifts to the barricade in front of the front row.

“oh. guess that’s whatcha think of me.” Sans’ dryness is perfect for the sort of atmosphere the arena’s in. That’s not enough to keep you from the realization of what he’s about to tell, though. Sans is a completely honest dude, so none of what the crowd’s about to hear is a stretch.

“so, a few weeks ago, we had to get some new strings for my bonefriend’s guitar, right here in new home. they were so out of tune, i think it probably sent the owner of the music club down the road into a deep sadness.” Sans is right; his performance on your guitar were those strings’ last leg; you couldn’t get a good sound out of them afterwards, no matter how hard you tried.

“now, he’s not the kinda guy to go shopping a lot, so on the rare chance we’re doin’ that together, why not dig him into the dirt with joke after joke? figured it’d either make shopping a weekly thing, or mean he’ll never wanna shop with me again.”

“when we get in, there’s way more strings than either of us coulda guessed. it was pretty much a string emporium, which is great, since it’s called ‘the string emporium’. no false advertising whatsoever.” Ah, Underground business names. They’ll never cease to be wonderful in their own direct way.

“i didn’t want him to feel stumped with some cheap pair that’d break quicker than a heart that was told it could never have ice cream again, so i asked him, ‘want me to **string** the bill together?’” Scattered laughter.

“we’d been in the store for five seconds, and he was already gettin’ all red, but he told me no, and that he’d have enough for whatever he needed. free stuff always feels better, though, so i assured him that my soul would **beat** a lil harder if he took the gift and saw it as a **cymbal** of how we feel together. if any of ya ever meet my bonefriend, this should give ya a good idea of how to crack his code.” The laughter picks up more than the last one.

“needless to say, that was enough for him to wanna let me buy them. took a good ten minutes for us to even find the kind he needed, with how big that place is. even when we did find the right spot, they were so high up that he had to use a ladder to grab them. i woulda offered, but slippers aren’t really ideal for climbing up a life-threatening ladder, and it made a good trade off, anyway. i buy him some guitar strings, he climbs up this real questionable thing made of wood. sounds like a fair trade-off in my book.” You can’t help but laugh at the thought of it; when you were climbing up the ladder, Sans played it off as some daunting task, when it was really the same as any other ladder.

“i got down, and asked him what he thought of my gymnastics. apparently, he didn’t wanna be left empty handed in joke tennis, cause he said i was even springier than the strings he’s gonna play.” Hearing that one brings a bit of a smirk to your smile; for how deep Sans’ jokes hit, you’re proud of yourself for getting through enough of the laughs to get one out.

“it was admirable, but he made the mistake of joking while i still had ammo. that spells **treble**, and i sure let ‘em know that.” You know he’s right, as the crowd booms in laughter. That was the last joke opening you got all afternoon.

“we’d been acting like traffic cones for too long, though, so we made our way to checkout. hadn’t seen him all woozy from laughter since… the last time i’d seen him. guess thwarting him with this stuff’s along the same line as death and taxes. thought about takin’ it easy on him the rest of the time there, but when we got to front of the line, something happened that i simply couldn’t pass up.” Oh, geez. It’s time for the big one.

“the cashier looked bored to pieces, and somehow seemed to have the wrong uniform on, so i thought i’d brighten two birds with one… flashlight. yeah, flashlight. i said, ‘ya know, there’s thousans of people someone named sans could stans to go guitar string shopping with. this human gets all my sanses goin’, though. thanks for selling these strings, he’s really sansational at his strumming.”

You bend over from a mix of laughter and feeling like you’re about to pass out. It’s a good thing Papyrus is by your side to catch you by the shoulder, or your forehead might’ve made a new friend in the barricade you’d just been shaking a bit ago.

Sans continues to work through the rest of his stage time, leaving the audience laughing with each quip and piece of wordplay he delivers. As he continues to uphold his relaxed demeanor, with his voice booming around the arena, you can’t help but feel a little loose at the knees. Your bonefriend, of all people, is the one entertaining this whole crowd, and he’s doing an absolutely perfect job at it. What makes it all even more special is that he’s _your_ special someone; no one else in the arena but yours, as well as Papyrus as his brother. You’re still not really sure what you did to deserve someone as amazing as him, but he’s yours, and his amazing ability’s paying off dividends right now.

This isn’t something that’ll be lost to history, either. This is the first concert from a surface band in the Underground, and of all the people and groups that could’ve been the opening act, it’s Sans. It could make news attention, and on Metallica’s website, it’ll always list him as the other act for this very important performance. He really does have a gift, with his skill at putting smiles on people’s faces and making them laugh, and with a healthy dose of situational luck as well, he’s now sharing that with five thousand others. You… you love him so much…

_Woah_. Your soul almost feels like it’s kicking at your ribs, and you’re not even making any contact with Sans right now. The more lost in thought you’d gotten over how wonderful your bonefriend is, the more it seemed to be pushing like that, and it’s big enough now to be distracting. You can’t really blame your soul, if it loves someone as much as it does right now, and how could it _not_ be going as strong as it is for Sans right now? You’ve never been more proud of his work, and have the joy of knowing you’re the one who can give him a big, warm hug and smooch after this. That thumping feeling, though… that was something special. From what you can put together, it almost felt like it was pushing in a straight line towards where he’s standing on stage. Whatever it means, right now isn’t when it’s going to press any farther, because the crew leader waves at Sans and taps at his watch, before making a cutting motion in the air.

“oh. guess my time’s up. thanks for putting up with me for the last half hour, buckos. ready for woodica?” The crowd seems absolutely ready for Woodica, going by the roar Sans draws from them.

“alright, alright. don’t go billing me for any sore throat check-ups after that. have fun tonight.” Acting as casual as he would be at the house, Sans leaves the stage, drawing a loud ovation from the audience. With this kind of reception, he could very well be the headlining act at this same venue someday. The crew leader leads him back to the barricade and pulls it open for him to return to you and Papyrus, with the disgruntled nature of his expression now seeming a lot more relieved by what Sans did to fill the time.

“WOW, BROTHER! YOU JUST SPARED THIS ENTIRE CROWD OF AN INTENSE DOSE OF BOREDOM!! YOU DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO USE ANY OF THE JAPES YOU’VE PULLED ON ME!”

“gotta work with whatcha got, bro. this crowd ain’t several thousand cool brothers with your level of patience.”

“GREAT POINT, TOO! MOST OF THESE FOLKS HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT, AND YOU BLEW THEM OUT THROUGH THE FRONT DOORS! METAPHORICALLY, THAT IS. THEY’RE STILL IN THEIR SEATS.”

“Sans… bonefriend… hun…” Getting a full sentence out is harder than you’d thought.

“whaddup, protag?”

“Whaddup? You just entertained thousands of people, and opened for one of the biggest bands in the world, and you start off with ‘whaddup’… I… I don’t even know what to say about what you just did up there.”

“who said ya had to say anything? i’m not gonna make ya into some poet, or demand ya say x amount of words about that. i ain’t some dirty word manipulator.”

“…Well, aside from manipulating them all into laughing so hard, and, and…” You really want to say things that’ll work their way right into Sans’ heart, but your bonefriend’s performance is running through your head in too many twisting directions right now to put something together.

“SANS, LOOK WHAT YOU’RE DOING. HE’S GOING TO BE TOO FLUSTERED UP TO ENJOY THE SHOW!”

“eh, it’ll be loud enough for him to snap outta it. besides, i’ve gone way too far in now to pull back. here, lemme deal the final blow.” Your dumbfoundedness from all of this is enough for Sans to briefly talk like you’re not there at all, and it’s working.

“i actually coulda used more dinner earlier. thinking about ya in a shirt for the band got me too distracted to chow down on more. luckily, that darn cuteness of yours also fills appetites, and it filled me up on the stage. who knew?”

If you don’t let some sort of dominant action out right now, you’re just going to be a pile of noodles for the rest of the night. With somewhat of a jolting motion from your arms, you put one around Sans back and the other behind his skull, much like the night you became bonefriends, and press a deep smooch onto his forehead. He doesn’t do anything to stop you, and you can feel a laugh from the way his ribs bounce up, while you continue to refuse to let your lips go. Sans is _your_ bonefriend, and you’re going to give him the love and care he deserves for doing what he did…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yn2xSNv0TSk

The lights in the arena suddenly go black, and a video from the acclaimed surface film _The Good, The Bad and The Ugly _begins to play on the stage. You’re too locked into the smooch to pay attention right away, though, until the loud BOOOOOOM from the cannon echoes through the arena. It’s startling enough for you to nearly slip and fall right onto Sans’ ribs.

“geez, protag, it’s just the movie bit. didn’t think your footing would get so **ugly **over it.”

“…Heheh, guess so. I won’t distract, though, this scene’s so **good**, it’d be real **bad** if I made you miss it.” With Sans on your left and Papyrus on your right, the three of you watch the clip of a man in the Civil War era, running through a graveyard to find a grave that holds $200,000 in Confederate gold. Even without the greater context, something about the scene of the man’s frantic search with the powerful music over it gets you and the rest of the crowd in a completely energetic mood for what’s to come.

When the video ends, the lights shoot back on, and you’re surprised to see that you were completely distracted from the band’s arrival on stage. They sit on stools with their acoustic instruments, grinning and taking in the wild enthusiasm from the predominately monster crowd, before Lars, the drummer, plays a six count, launching the band straight into their first song.

It’s everything you’d been hoping it’d be, and then some. The foursome plows their way through their set list, playing acoustic renditions of their hits, deeper cuts, and even some covers. What really amazes you is how they aren’t just playing their usual renditions with acoustic instruments; rather, each one is a unique rendition to provide the Underground with a truly special experience. The energy with which James gives in his vocals and rhythmic melodies, Kirk in his guitar solos, Lars in his consistent, powerful drumming, and Rob in his creative and melodic bass playing are all oozing with ability and thought.

What makes you the happiest from all of this, though, is the gleaming looks on Sans’ and Papyrus’ faces for each and every second. Given his typical quickly-moving nature, Papyrus bangs his head more to the music, along with syncing the movement of his arms with the beat. If his new shirt has anything to say about it, Papyrus has a grittier side to him than you’d gotten to see much of before, so that must be what’s pushing him to live up every motion he can. The members of the band seem to notice this, too, with the smiles and brief points they appear to be dealing his way. His size and location in the front of the crowd aren’t hurting anything on that regard.

Sans, on the other hand, is taking the whole show in in a different way. You’re not sure if he hasn’t heard the songs before, or if he’s just not one to move with music as frequently, like at the New Year’s festival, but he spends the whole show with his arms hanging over the barricade, and a huge, glowing smile across his teeth. From the quality of the music, the company of you and his brother, and the ambience that the jubilant crowd provides, it truly looks like everything’s exactly how he’d want it to be.

The time of the show seems to fly by, and it only seems like it’s just begun when the band says they’ve only got one song left. You and the rest of the crowd has plenty of energy left in the tank for however long they’d want to play, but you also understand that they shouldn’t be playing until they pass out.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8OjVBWNsy8

The first strum from James’ guitar is enough for you to immediately recognize the song. They’re gonna close the show with Enter Sandman… no, not Sandman. There’s too perfect of a change to be made.

“Enter Sansman.” You unexpectedly whisper it to where his ear would be.

“all you’d find is chewed up dinner. it’d be a bit freaky to fork that out.”

“Gosh darn it, you.” Your chatter gets cut off by the lyrics starting, as James’ voice bounces around the arena once again.

_“Say your prayers, little one, don’t forget, my son, to include everyone…”_ You join in.

_“I tuck you in, warm within, keep you free from sin, ‘til the sandman he comes…” _**Sans** joins in.

_“sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight…” _From the noise, it doesn’t take rocket science to figure out who joins next.

_“EXIT LIGHT, ENTER NIGHT, TAKE MY HAND, WE’RE OFF TO NEVER, NEVER LAND!” _Papyrus’ tone doesn’t exactly match up with the one the song’s taking, but you’re sure the band appreciates his enthusiasm.

They continue to work through the song, as you gladly listen to the skeleton brothers singing along with you. Either Enter Sandman shows up on Underground radio a lot, or Sans had chosen it as one to give a listen beforehand, but he doesn’t miss a single word. It’s all in his low, chummy voice as well, making your heart all the more happy to hear it. As Kirk, the lead guitarist, begins his highly-renowned solo midway through the piece, you wrap an arm around each skeleton, and do a bit of a jumping motion. They follow suit, and while your right arm might not agree with pushing up as high as Papyrus lifts himself, the brief pull is worth it for the feeling of the three of you as happy as can be.

_“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word…”_

_“and never mind that noise you heard…”_

_“It’s just the beasts under your bed…”_

_“IN YOUR CLOSET, IN YOUR HEEEEEAD!”_

The final runthrough of the chorus is the loudest yet, and you all shout along. James, Kirk, and Rob stand up from their stools and treat it like they’re playing a usual electric show, adding to the power of their sound. Some sort of internal energy that only a concert can provide is running through you right now, as you passionately do your best to live up the moment, just like the other five thousand that are watching behind you. When the chorus ends, the song trails off, and the crowd gives a loud ovation. For the honor of being the first surface band to play a show in the Underground, Metallica did a darn good job; everyone you can see behind you seems overjoyed by what they just took in. After the customary throwing of guitar picks and drum sticks into the crowd, James grabs his microphone again.

**“Hey, thanks for coming out, everyone! You really make us feel good, and I’m sure this won’t be the last time we’re playin’ for ya down here in the Underground. Thank you to everyone that helped put this together and lended a hand, two, or twelve today, much love to ya! Real special thanks to that skeleton with the hoodie in the front row, too, you really bailed us out, and you’ve got way better jokes than I could think up like that.” **The band starts clapping towards Sans, and the rest of the crowd follows suit. Much like at New Year’s, you love each and every second of him getting this much praise. Lars makes his way to the mic during the clapping and grabs the stand, with a drum stick in his other hand.

**“Thank ya so much, Underground, you fockin’ rocked tonight! Muhtallica loves you, and we will see you very soon! Oh, before we go, think ya left something up here, Sans.” **Lars gives an underhand toss to the drumstick to send it Sans’ way, but rather than catching it, he lets it land in his right eye socket. Not knowing that he’s perfectly fine, the drummer winces at the sight, but when Sans pulls it out and gives a thumbs up, he’s able to let out a sigh of relief. With that settled, the four band members come together for a picture that you’re sure is going to be famous, given the context of the show, before they give a final wave and walk down the steps on the back side of the stage. The arena lights flick on, and the crowd quickly starts to shift its way out, to avoid the foot traffic. Given how far you are from any doors, it could be a hot minute.

“so, was the gift worth any lost sleep ya got over it?”

“And then some. I’ve seen some shows before, but nothing compares to- wait, why’re you asking that? I haven’t gotten all my gushing in yet for how amazing your performance was.”

“eh, all in a day’s work.”

“A day’s work? You just opened something really famous, you’ll be a part of tonight in the history books forever.”

“PROTAG’S RIGHT, SANS! ALL OF THAT JOKING SINCE YOU WERE ITTY BITTY BONES PAID OFF.”

“alright, alright, if you want me to pound my chest, i will.” Sans slowly pushes a closed fist onto his hoodie over where his ribcage is, not seeming to give a lick of force in doing so.

“good enough?”

“IT’LL HAVE TO BE, UNLESS YOU HAVE A LOITERING CHARGE IN MIND.” Looking behind Sans, you see a security person that doesn’t seem too keen on the three of you standing around when everyone else is trying to leave, so you give an apologetic wave and scoop Sans off his feet.

“Sorry to cut your self-punching short, but we’ve gotta get out of here. Hope my arms are good enough for a superstar’s ride out.”

“…of course. if you wanna be the taxi driver, i won’t be a backseat driver.”

“I’m only worth a taxi? Not a limousine?”

“do limousines wear t-shirts and smell like sweat?”

“Good point. Don’t think they do.” Happily providing yourself as Sans’ taxi, you slowly push through the crowd, with Papyrus’ height reassuring you that you won’t get separated from him. As you expected, it does take a bit to get back to the concourses, but with how amazing tonight was, you’re not complaining for one second later. The sound of the shirts bouncing around in Papyrus’ battle body continues to amuse you, as you get through the concourses, and the front doors soon after, with a huge grin on your face throughout.

“PROTAG, I HOPE THOSE SHOES OF YOURS ARE GOOD WALKING ONES. WE’VE GOT A LONG, LONG HIKE AHEAD OF US.”

“They should be alright, maybe this’ll be the demo for the sort of personal training you do.” Papyrus is right; even with the Riverperson’s ride, it could be nearly an hour before you arrive at the skeletons’ lovely home in Snowdin. You’d offer the apartment, but there’s nowhere else comfortable in the room to sleep, and while your bed may be big enough to fit two, you wouldn’t want to leave anyone out.

“sorry, bro, but i’ve got something that might scratch up your demo for a new client.”

“WHY’S THAT, BROTHER? DOES NEW HOME HAVE SOME SORT OF BAN ON DISTANCES THAT COULD MAKE SOMEONE PASS OUT? WATERFALL SURE DOESN’T.” You know what he means by that, from his story of the 100 lap attempt he gave someone in Waterfall, and you’re glad he’s not turning right now into a sudden attempt at that.

“nah, no legal jargon. you’ve just gotta be jarg-on board with flying through time and space with me.”

“IT’S BEEN A WHILE. I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN THAT TIME YOU “SURPRISED” ME WITH A DETOUR TO A DOG PARK.”

“what can i say? of course the dogs would wanna go after femurs as big as yours.”

“I WASN’T VERY FLATTERED, BUT AT LEAST IT WAS THE SMALL DOG SECTION. THINKING ABOUT THOSE HUGE ONES COMING AFTER ME MAKES ME SHUDDER.” Just a couple hours ago, Sans had been in show mode, and now he’s already jokingly getting under his brother’s not-skin. His ability to snap between forms of his comedy right away will always impress you.

“REGARDLESS, IT’S GETTING LATE, AND I DON’T KNOW IF THIS’LL WORK IF PROTAG PASSES OUT AT OUR FEET. I’LL ACCEPT THIS LITTLE TRIP OF YOURS.”

“Looks like you’re gonna be a taxi, too, Sans! Papyrus, maybe it’ll have to be your turn soon, too.”

“I ALREADY DO. SOMETIMES, SANS PASSES OUT IN THE LIBRARBY, AND I HAVE TO GO GET HIM.”

“hey, it’s a love snooze. wouldn’t pass out on any old lad’s shoulder.”

“FAIR ENOUGH. YOUR CHIN DOESN’T DIG INTO ME, ANYWAY.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lovely chin, Sans. I’d hold it and rub it and smooch it any day, and-” Staring at your bonefriend for this long’s making you get ahead of yourself a bit. At least for now, you’re still in public.

“here, let’s get back to the house, and you can be a chin freak all ya want there.” Sans uses his left hand to grab ahold of you, and his right hand to grab ahold of his brother. He uses his thumbs to give each of your hands a gentle little rub.

“Lead the way, superstar. We all love you.”

“PROTAG’S RIGHT, SANS. NEVER FORGET THAT.”

“aww, shucks, you two.” With a big smile, Sans closes his eyes and sends the three of you into the black void, and then to his porch a second later. There isn’t an inch in your body, heart, and soul that isn’t flooding with happy energy right now.

This is a feeling you want forever.


	28. A Skeleton's Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Sans'. Just the name is enough to get you grinning from ear to ear. Over the past months, you've felt your bond with him grow closer and closer, and after watching him amaze the audience at the concert with his comedy, your pride and happiness towards him have only increased tenfold. With what you've learned from your research at the Ruins, something has to give, and on this fateful, wonderful night, it seems like it could finally be the time.

**Chapter 28 – A Skeleton’s Connection**

The journey back to Sans and Papyrus’ house may take a mere second at most, but in that second, your brain has so much it’s trying to go through. Tonight went from being invited to a show that’ll forever be a part of history to a night where your boyfriend got to be a part of that history. His words and demeanor got the entire crowd on his side, and of all the people there that he could have a special bond with, it’s you.

There’s something about that bond that you can’t get off your mind now, either. Ever since you’d carried him out of the arena, your soul had begun this… this sort of throbbing feeling. You can’t think of anything better at the moment to call it, with the way it seems to punch at you once every few seconds. Every time there’s a little impulse, you feel the same sort of buzz of energy that kissing his skull gives off, only this time, it emanates through your entire body. The hits also seem to provide this urge to show him even more affection. Your hand wants to hold his a little tighter, you want your distance with him to be a little shorter, you want your next smooch to last a little longer… whatever the throb is, it keeps deepening these thoughts, and you’ve got no reason to feel like you should resist. Every point it makes is one you agree with.

“protag? hey, protag? uh oh, should we have asked him to bring a jacket this time, bro?”

“I DON’T KNOW, SANS! HE’S JUST STANDING THERE, STARING AT NOTHING! WE’VE GOT TO GET HIM INSIDE TO THE WARMTH RIGHT AWAY!”

“…Huh? Oh… oh! My bad, guys! Sort of drifted off when we were getting here, I guess… eheheh…” You feel a bit embarrassed, but do your best to get your bearings back. You’re back in Snowdin, in front of the welcoming house, and you’ve been standing on your own, staring into oblivion for who knows how long. Guess that second really was more than just a second. Seeing town this quiet isn’t something you’re used to; without a festival to keep everyone outside, it looks pretty empty. There isn’t a night cycle to make anything darker, but most houses don’t have their lights on, which you figure is a good to cue to politely ask for no one to ask the homeowner to a snowball fight.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE ALRIGHT, PROTAG? I CAN GO STIR UP MORE OATMEAL, IF THE BREEZE IS GETTING TO YOU.”

“…No, no, I’ll be fine, but I do appreciate the offer. I’m not gonna let myself become a magnet for all your oatmeal.”

“that’s good. not many human doctors down here, i dunno what i’d do if we had an oatmeal overdose on our hands.”

“Ahaha, oatmeal… overdose…” Talking’s suddenly gotten really hard. You’ve made this gaze into Sans’ eye sockets that you can’t break. He’s the most adorable thing, and in your own little world, you don’t want anything to keep you from looking at him. It doesn’t seem like he wants anything less, either.

The smile that Sans had been smiling at first for his clever bit of wordplay is now shining from how he feels looking at you. In the midst of your trance, you’re still hoping Papyrus doesn’t feel left out from this, but he does have those shirts in his battle body that probably feel like a hug to a spine. All that does is bring you back to your earlier thinking. You’re too far from your bonefriend right now, and that has to change.

“…Sans? Can I please carry you again?” He seems to fidget a bit, and then begins to walk your way before even answering your question.

“...yeah, that’d be real nice. do i hafta start stuffing g into your mouth for the tip jar, though?”

“Pfff, no, I don’t think I could swallow that. Your company’s warmer than any tip could be, anyway, hun.”

“all that dough you could buy a ride with, and you’d pick a bone instead?”

“Does this answer that?” When Sans gets close enough for arms’ reach, you scoop him under the knees and hold him the same way you did in the crowd, only now, you’ve got the blissfully quiet air to enjoy together.

“AWWWW! THAT’S EVEN CUTER THAN THOSE SQUIRREL VIDEOS DR. ALPHYS CONTINUES TO SEND ME!”

Well… if one voice is going to cut through the air, at least Papyrus is the one making it. You certainly don’t mind Underground crowds at all, with how warm and accepting they are, but this privacy with Sans is really nice. Your skin might be painfully cold right now, but you’re too comfortable to pay a lick of thought to that, and you’ll be inside soon, anyway.

“geez, this is nice. think we may hafta clone you.”

“Clone me?”

“yeah, so the clone can hold me like a couch when you’re away. not tossing the old one, that’d be mean, but i could sink into these arms any day.”

“HERE, I’LL GO OPEN THE DOOR FOR YOU TWO! WHO AM I TO RUIN SUCH A PERFECT HUMAN COUCH?” Papyrus struts over to the door, with his excitement from seeing you and his brother so happy together somehow making him lift above the ground. He reaches into his battle body to pull a key out, making you wonder just how much he comes prepared with in there. Either he figures out exactly how much to take with him each day, or his chestpiece is the home of some bottomless void, like Kirby in the game series of the same name. That’s the sort of thing you’d wondered when playing it, so naturally, that’s gonna spring up again now. Again, though, drifting off with your thoughts gets the better of you, because when you snap back into things, Papyrus has already opened the door, waiting for you and Sans to come inside.

“W-whoops! Sorry again, Papyrus, maybe warping in a trio messes with a human’s energy or something.”

“MAYBE! SANS, ONCE YOU’RE OUT OF YOUR HUMAN COUCH DAZE, WE SHOULD FIGURE THAT OUT.”

“hrm? oh, yeah, we can do that.” Sans managed to start napping in however long you’d been standing still.

“Come on, Sans, I know you’re no stranger to naps, but you’re a superstar! We’ve gotta celebrate at least a little, there’ll be plenty of naps to have later.”

“ah, you’re right. c’mon, rocko’s got quite the story to hear.” How could you almost forget Rocko? Surely, they’ll love to hear the news, too. With a skip to your step that’s not quite as high as Papyrus’ floating, you eagerly enter the house, with Sans’ very light weight not slowing you down an inch. The first thing you notice is Rocko’s lower sprinkle count; after enough visits, that naturally became the first thing you’d check whenever you’d enter the warm home.

“OH, GEEZ! GUESS THEY GOT BORED WITH NO ONE AROUND AND CHOWED DOWN AGAIN. SANS, DID YOU FORGET TO GIVE THEM THEIR TOY?”

“whoops. guess i thought too much about all that wood.” It’s hard to reach, but you gently elbow Sans on the back of his ribcage, getting another short laugh out of him.

“WELL, HOW ABOUT YOU TELL PROTAG WHERE TO TAKE YOU TO GRAB THEM? YOU CAN KEEP BEING A SUPERSTAR AND SHOW HIM THIS TOY ROCKO LOVES.”

“alrighty. protag, i’m gonna have to ask you to walk to the left. i know it’s a tall task, but trust me. ya got this.”

“Woah, that is quite the tall task. I’ll do my best to handle this task with responsibility, in order to come out of it with nothing but success.” You say it with the most unserious serious tone you can think of, before making the silliest big strides you can to get to the table where the quantum physics book sits. This toy is new news to you; just last week, you hadn’t seen any sort of thing Rocko was playing with.

“there.” Not even making a look at it, Sans points towards the table, where a blue cube sits behind the book. This, apparently, is the “toy”.

“A block? How do they play with it?”

“WE HAVE NO IDEA! THEY HAVE LESS SPRINKLES WHEN WE COME HOME WHEN THE TOY’S AROUND, THOUGH. MUST SPEND MORE TIME INTERACTING WITH IT THAN LAZING AROUND, SOAKING IN FOOD.”

“huh. wonder who they’re taking that from. clearly, they’re a real bad influence.”

“Hmmmm…. trying to think of who it could be, but I just can’t put my finger on it.” You tap the same spot on his ribs from earlier on cue, and can’t help but let out a blushed-up laugh of your own from the joke. Sans flails his arm towards the table and grabs the toy, nearly knocking the book over in doing so.

“Now, we’ve got one more pitstop to make, don’t we?”

“we sure do. papyrus, wanna catch the ride, too?”

“NO THANKS! I’M SURE IT’S A SMOOTH RIDE FROM TAKEOFF TO THE LANDING, BUT I’M THOROUGHLY ENJOYING THIS AS A SPECTATOR!” He’s not exaggerating; there’s an even bigger smile on his face than usual, as he’s presumably not used to seeing his brother get taken around like this.

“alright, then. suit yourself.” You’re not sure how much heavier Papyrus is than his older brother, so you’re a little relieved he said no. Walking to the kitchen with a much looser stride than when you’d gone for the toy, you step to the cupboard where the sprinkles are, and proudly lift Sans up for him to be able to reach. Again, he opens it and takes it without looking at it at all, and you ease him down with nothing but complete caution. Monsters aren’t capable of sickness and trauma, but you can’t imagine a fall to the floor being all that comfortable. A few more steps, and you’re back at the table where Rocko lives.

“Sans, you were such a hard worker, so you get all the honors.”

“…nah. if you really wanna make me happy, we’ll do this together.” He hands you the sprinkles, and keeps the toy to himself.

“You… you want me to feed Rocko?”

“yup. we trust ya. just make sure you give exactly four shakes and not five, or you might have a boulder of a problem on your hands.”

“Uh oh, the pressure’s on. I’ll do my best.” Cautiously, you give the sprinkles four shakes. They all land on Rocko’s… head(?)… and none of them sink in. You never see the sprinkles disappear, so maybe it’s like how a watched pot never boils. At the same time, Sans sets the block next to them. You’ve still got no clue how they play with it, but it seems like they’re completely ready, whenever they get the urge to.

“Great work. You put that block down better than I’ve ever… seen someone put a block down before. Here, I’m gonna set my favorite superstar down on his feet. He deserves hugs.” You cautiously lower Sans’ feet down to the carpet, as his slippers adorably sink down.

“you just asked a lot from me, hun. giving a rock their toy is serious biz.”

“Darn, you’re right. I shouldn’t be putting a star like you through all that effort after your show. Here, lemme-”

You find yourself pressing your chest up to Sans before you even meant to. Something’s clearly influencing you that hasn’t been around before.

“…Help you loosen up after that.”

“eheh, geez, hun. of everyone i’ve come across before, i think you’re the one with the most heart-” He suddenly wraps his arms around your back, cutting himself off. Could the same weird feeling that’s pushing you along be working a number on him, too?

“…and forehead sweat. you’ve got a whole river of it goin’ right now.”

“O-oh, I do? Heheh, well, I’d gladly… gladly… share it with you?” You hope that’s the ethically right way to ask for a forehead rub.

“glad ya asked, or i’d hafta become a thief, cause the answer’s yes.” He places his left hand behind your head, and you do the same thing to his skull, as you pull your foreheads together for some soothing rubbing. You’d been able to restrain yourself from complete affection at the show, but it can’t wait any longer.

“…Hhhhh, I don’t know how your forehead’s so soft, but please, don’t let that change.”

“ditto. human sweat’s never felt so good.”

“You’ve felt human sweat that isn’t mine?”

“don’t think so. congrats, you surpassed a bar that’s zero feet high.”

“Honored.” He lets out the most adorkable, low giggle, and you find yourself doing the same, before pulling your forehead back and looking over Sans’ face. It’s flushed with color, accompanying an unusually nervous smile. You find yourself doing the same thing.

“I love my lil’ superstar.”

“i love my smelly bonefriend that makes me wanna do stuff like that. c’mere, hun.” You draw your head into his chest, backing him close to the couch. Every few seconds, you swoop a smooch down on the top of his head, and after enough of them, he returns the favor by meeting one up to your lips.

“ROCKO, DON’T LOOK. YOU’RE WAY TOO YOUNG IN ROCK YEARS TO SEE THIS.” You’re too focused on smooching your bonefriend to look back, but you start thinking of Papyrus covering Rocko’s nonexistent eyes, which is a funny enough visual as is. Sans’ mouth seems to catch your growing smile from the thought, and quickly adjusts to fit in perfectly.

“you being that happy makes me just as happy. don’t stop anytime soon, ok, buddy?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to, especially when I’ve got a cute bean like you to get all warm and snuggly with.” You surprise him with some tickles to his ribs, making him fall back onto the couch. With Papyrus around, you figure it’s best not to jump onto the couch yourself, so you pull him off to get him back on your lap.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only thing to come with you.

“SANS! PROTAG! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE???” Papyrus’ scared tone immediately turns both of your attention, as you let go of the smooch and swing your head back to look at the younger brother.

“Papyrus! What’s wrong?”

“BEHIND YOU!” He points towards the couch, and you look back to see what he means… and are immediately horrified by the sight.

The fabled hoodie that sits between the couch cushions, keeping things in balance, got pushed out. You wouldn’t trade that joy you just had with Sans for anything, but the risk of whatever’s about to happen to the house is a strong candidate.

“DUCK!” By instinct, you pull Sans towards you and snap yourself down towards the carpet, thumping down hard. The couch begins to vibrate like your electric razor, shifting in all directions, before the eruption strikes.

Dozens, and soon hundreds, of Sans’ hoodies rocket out of the split between the couch cushions. You’re relieved you pulled your bonefriend down in time, because getting hit in the chin by these things seems like an easy way to exit light and enter night before the celebration can even end. They fly in each and every direction, some hitting the ceiling, while others get stuck over the banister alongside the staircase. Once you’re confident that you’re far enough from the hoodie stream to not get knocked out by it, you run in front of the TV and spread your arms over the screen. As a guest, you don’t want to be responsible for anything breaking, and the TV seems like both the most expensive and valuable thing in the whole room- well, aside from Rocko, of course.

Sans would’ve tried saying something to you already, but the vibrations from the couch are too loud for anything else to be heard. Instead, he gives a thumbs up, seeing the level of care you have for what’s his and his brother’s, while he watches the stream of hoodies continue. You have no idea how this compares to whenever this has happened before, but if Sans and Papyrus were kids when this was first a thing, you really hope it didn’t scare them all that bad. After a minute or so, the trail of hoodies coming out slows down to a whimper, and with one final burst, it stops. The carnage is over, but the whole floor of the house is now coated with light blue, some of which even managed to get into the kitchen. Your instinct tells you to profoundly apologize immediately.

“…Papyrus, I’m so, so sorry… I got carried away, and now I’ve caused this huge mess, I’ll get to cleaning it right now…”

“NONSENSE, PROTAG! THERE’S NOTHING TO BE WORRIED ABOUT AT ALL.”

“…What do you mean? I’ve left your whole house covered in soft, adorable clothing. This is gonna take hours to sort out.”

“MAYBE IT WOULD’VE LAST MONTH, BUT NOT ANYMORE! WE RECENTLY EXPLAINED OUR COUCH CONCERN WITH DR. ALPHYS, AND SHE PROVIDED US WITH SOMETHING BRILLIANT!”

“yeah, it’s gonna vacuumulate in a big surprise for ya.”

“SANS! DON’T GO GIVING AWAY THE SURPRISE, PROTAG SHOULD GET TO SEE IT FOR HIMSELF.” Papyrus walks to the kitchen, opens a cupboard by the oven, and pulls out a strange device. The base of it looks like any typical vacuum cleaner you’d see on the surface, but there’s a hole cut into the back of it, and the other end holds a long, grey rubber tube. Using his training experience to lift with his knees, he heaves it off the ground and carries it into the living room, before sticking the square end in between the couch cushions.

“I don’t know what this is gonna do, but I still want you to know how sorry I am for this. I didn’t wanna make a hassle, especially after Sans’ big accomplishment.”

“don’t fret, protag. all you did was create a mess that woulda taken us hours and hours to clean up, filling up all our celebration time, but with this new thing we’ve got, it’s no biggie.” Seeing the mortified look on your face, he returns the gentle elbow to the ribs you gave him earlier.

“heheh, just messing with ya. would’ve been a bonding experience, anyway. coulda gotten my brother to actually wear one of my hoodies for once while we clean.”

“THAT’S A VISUAL NEITHER OF YOU NEED TO SEE. I’M TOO BIG FOR IT. THE SLEEVES WOULD SIMPLY RIP OFF, AND THAT WOULD BE THE WORST TRAGEDY.”

“Gosh, that _would_ be the worst tragedy. Sans, I think I need to hold your hand to let out the clear fear that’s giving me.”

“yeesh, yeah, i think i gotta do the same after that, too. worse than any horror movie the surface could ever think up.” Instantaneously, you grab for each other’s hands, creating that room temperature again that Sans had described it as a while back.

“…Please don’t let go…”

“wha?”

“Wha?” You didn’t even really try to say that; it came together on its own, like your thoughts from earlier. Sans keeps looking into your eye contact, trying to figure out what that was about, but the only solution the two of you can think of is to make your hand-holding even tighter.

“BOTH OF YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, THIS THING’S PRETTY POWERFUL. AWAY IT GOES!” Reaching his hand in between the cushions and pressing some button, Papyrus starts up the machine. The tube starts whirring around, taking in air with a sound like a tornado. You can tell why he didn’t want either of you getting too close; it seems like an easy way to get a leg stuck in that thing. It doesn’t take long for the air to be powerful enough to get the hoodies’ attention, and they start to fly off the floor and into the tube. It devours the hoodies into its system faster than Big Mouth can eat a helping of burg at Grillby’s.

“Sans! How’s the TV not getting shot into the tube, too?” The equipment’s very loud, so you have to shout over it. You’re not hearing any trace of a reply from Sans, though.

“i dunno. something, something, affection for fabric. alphys has kept up with her science a heck of a lot more than i have, weird fireworks are my specialty.” It’s a good enough answer for you. The amount of wild hoodies continues to dwindle, as the ones in the kitchen get pulled in by the powerful wind as well, somehow not taking any of Papyrus’ bone collection along with it. The final wonderful pieces of clothing soon get gobbled up, and the machine makes a burp noise before turning off.

“PHEW!” Papyrus carefully lifts it out of the couch, revealing that the hoodie that’d been keeping all things sane has returned to its home between the cushions. Crisis avoided.

“Underground technology really is something, isn’t it?”

“IT SURE IS. I DOUBT YOU WERE EXPECTING HOODIE VACUUMS AND VHS TAPES DOWN HERE.”

“True that, didn’t think I’d see a VHS ever again. Hearing that running sound really adds to the Mettaton Movie experience, doesn’t it?”

“IT… IT SURE DOES… NYEH HEH…” You must’ve gotten Papyrus thinking about one of the films you’d recently watched with him and Sans, because his usually articulate stance gets all flustered up.

“…I THINK I SHOULD GO LIE DOWN. I CAN DO A WHOLE DAY OF PERSONAL TRAINING AND BE FINE, BUT ONE SENTENCE FROM YOU, PROTAG, AND I’VE BEEN BESTED. CLEARLY, YOU’RE A GENIUS.”

“he sure is. when you work **retail** as long as he has, you learn a thing or two.”

“APPARENTLY SO. YOU’LL HAVE TO TEACH ME SOME OF YOUR TRICKS. THAT CAN WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW, THOUGH! GOOD NIGHT, PROTAG.”

“Night night, Papyrus. Thank you for being such an amazing friend.”

“AND THANK YOU FOR BEING A WONDERFUL FRIEND, AND A PERFECT BOYFRIEND FOR MY BROTHER. THERE’S NO ONE I’D TRUST MORE.” He runs up the stairs to his room, and you can hear some ruffled changing of clothes before a thump on his bed. He sounds really eager to hear his story.

“that’s some high praise from my brother. to be number one on his trust scale, you’ve gotta really be a shining light to him one way or another.”

“He deserves nothing but the best. Glad I can be one of those bright lights through a window that turns into a rainbow, in his eye sockets.”

“when him and i moved up to the surface, we got to see that feat of nature for the first time. had a heck of a lotta fun with the rainbow japes.”

“Pfff, we’re two peas in a pod for that.”

“SANS, I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING ABOUT RAINBOW JOKES! YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE MY DREAMS TURN INTO FLASHBACKS OF ALL THE ONES YOU MADE.”

“sorry, bro. didn’t mean to paint up your dream canvas.” The groan that trails through the house is a good indicator of what he thought of that one.

“seriously, though, it means a lot to me that you see him as an amazing friend. he should only have the best people in his life, and you sure fall under that banner, and then some.”

“Well, good thing he has such an amazing, adorable brother that I’ve had the joy of falling in love with, so I could make that happen.”

“better go read the story before i set off more bad dreams. we can gush over each other’s bones more when i’m done.” He takes your right hand and deals out a smooch, before heading up the stairs.

“Don’t rush any of it! I’ll be completely patient.”

“don’t worry. i might love everything about ya, but nothing stops my brother from getting his full story.” He disappears into Papyrus’ room, shutting the door behind him. You haven’t heard Fluffy Bunny yet, and he’s stuck to his word about not wanting to ruin your eventual first experience with it.

Usually, whenever things time out like this, you sit around on the couch and wait for Sans to come back down once the story’s up. It gives him his space, so you don’t risk hearing any of what the story offers. Tonight doesn’t feel like the night to follow that, though. Being closer to the door when Sans leaves the room means more precious seconds of getting to gush for him and help him feel good, and given his accomplishment tonight, that’s what he deserves. Taking quiet steps, you sneak towards the staircase and make your way up the carpeted floor. You’d never want to break Sans' trust in you wanting to experience the story in full, so you shift towards Sans’ door, where you can’t make out well what he’s saying.

Papyrus really does have the best older brother he could ask for. Every night you’ve been home, and even the time you were sprawled out together after the New Year’s celebration, Sans has taken the time to read this story to Papyrus, and it seems like it’s something he’s been keeping up with every night for years. No ordinary brother would commit to something the way he has, and it could be why Papyrus takes as many jokes in jest as he does.

You’re so, so proud of him for everything he does…

The feeling’s back. Something inside is controlling your emotional urges however it wants. Sans is reading Papyrus his story, and you respect that it’s their private time, but something’s making you really, really want to go in there and see him. He’s spent too long without affection- as your bonefriend, and the best lil’ skeleton you could ever know, you have the urge for him to be as comfortable right now as possible.

It’s getting weirdly hard to stand. You have to prop a hand up on the wall to keep your footing. This pulsing desire to make him feel good is working through your whole body. To make matters all the stranger, some sort of energy seems to be hitting you from the outside as well. The closest you can compare it to is the feeling of getting hit by a dodgeball, and it feels like that dodgeball was thrown from the direction of Papyrus’ room. If it’s your soul making all this happen, what is it trying to tell you?

_Focus_. You firmly tell yourself to focus. If you keep letting yourself go along the thought train, Sans will come out of the room and see you all out of sorts, and tonight isn’t the night he should be worried about anything. Taking some deep breaths, you regain a bit of your footing and tell yourself to think about what’s happening at the current moment. Sans is in the room, he’ll finish telling the story, and then he’ll come out and see you. Nothing’s going to stop that, so there’s no point in getting wigged out over something you don’t understand. Those two points are what you repeat to yourself over and over, as your bearings seem to come more under your control. After a bit, you take your hand off the wall, and turn around to rest your back on it instead in a more relaxed position. Everything will be fine.

“GOOD NIGHT, BROTHER. I LOVE YOU, AND I’M VERY, VERY PROUD OF YOU.”

“n-n-night bro. love ya, t-t-t-too.”

Or… will it?

The door to Papyrus’ room opens, and Sans comes out in a far less relaxed manner than usual. His knees seem to be wobbling the same way yours were when you needed the wall for support. Given his condition, and the way he said good night to his brother, you doubt the story was the only thing they talked about. He sets his hand on the banister, before turning his head and noticing that you’re upstairs, too. Wasting no time, he walks towards you, until he’s only a few inches away.

“h-h-heya, protag. didn’t think ya’d try to spook me like that, heheh.” His voice continues to waver, and your insides go back to the same pulsing from when you were traveling back to the house.

“Hey, Sans, yeah, I… I…” Trying to string a reply together doesn’t seem like the best idea.

“…Something’s happening. Are you feeling it, too?”

“…yeah. i dunno what it is, but i can’t stop thinking about ya, pal.”

“Can’t stop thinking about you, either, I… I think I really need you.”

“say no more.” He wraps his arms around your sides, and you immediately return the favor. The strange force seems to be a little satisfied by this, but it keeps calling for more. Sans’ forehead looks awfully smoochable right about now, so you give one dead center, watching his cheeks get flushed up just as quick as yours are.

“bend down. i wanna do the same thing.”

“O-ok, hun.” You bend your knees so Sans can reach, and he pressed his teeth up on your forehead to deal out a smooch of his own. Even without lips, he makes it feel so perfect. Still, though, that energy calls for more.

“…Wanna meet ends in the middle?”

“you bet.” Your lips meet his teeth, and you go to town over each other, oozing with passion. For someone that sees a nap on the couch and an order of food as enough to have a top tier day, he really puts a lot of effort behind these. With your weight being far more than his, it doesn’t take long for you to gently push him up at the wall. There’s nothing around to break your contact, and there isn’t a spec of your body right now that wants it to stop, either.

The longer you stand with wobbly knees, though, the more you realize there could be a better place for this. With difficulty, you manage to pull away from the smooching.

“…Sorry. Didn’t mean to end that so soon.”

“uh oh. maybe i shoulda brushed my teeth first. this ain’t the dentist, though, can’t let ya choose between mint or grape.”

“Nah, it’s not that, your blend of pasta and soda breath’s perfectly fine with me. It’s just that… I don’t think standing up’s the best for this. My knees feel like they’re gonna give out any second.”

“mine, too. there’s my bed, but i didn’t make the sheets today. or yesterday. or the day before.”

“Who said I needed a sheet to be cozy? You in my arms is better than any sheet could be, my little skelehun.”

“…skelehun? how’d i not think that one up first?”

“I’ve been listening to all your ways with wordplay, Sans. There’ll be plenty more where that came from-” He cuts you off with a smooch on the lips.

“there. maybe that’ll help me get some of my power back from my hun-man.”

“…Oh, c’mere, you.” For the third time tonight, you scoop Sans up by his knees, not wanting him to have to wobble around for another second. He looks up at you and maintains a smile, continuing the same heavy breathing that you’ve been stuck in. Carrying him over to his room, you open the door with a little kick, and your ears are greeted with the gentle whirring from his tornado. It doesn’t surprise you anymore, given the nights of games and cuddles you’d spent with him in here already.

“behold, my room. now with absolutely no changes from last week.”

“Who said you need to change perfection?” You walk over to his mattress, having to bend down to set him on it. Even if the mattress is springy, now’s not the night to drop him and test your luck. With him briefly out of your arms’ grasp, you pull your shoes off before hopping on yourself, hearing the springs creak from the unusual feeling of human weight on it.

“Haven’t been on here since after that Halloween party. You’ve done such a good job treating yourself well since then, buddy.”

“all thanks to you, amigo. without your company, those dirty nightmares might’ve never hitchhiked their way out.”

You’re about to say something witty back, but something interrupts you. An impulse from what you figure must be your soul hits you again, and this time, it’s in a distinct voice.

_“heck, i’d love to cuddle with that shirt off.”_

It’s… somehow Sans’ voice? He’s looking at you with the same sort of surprised expression you have. If he somehow placed that thought inside of you, you’ve got no idea what he did to make it happen, but you try to send a thought back in return.

_“It’d make me all warm and happy if your hoodie came off, too…”_

His change in stature makes it seem like he heard that, too. What kind of bizarre state are your souls in?

“…I think we both know what we want.”

“…yup. i’ve never done something that intimate, but i’m sure you look real friggin’ cute under that shirt, and i’m ready for ya to prove that.”

“And if you wouldn’t mind giving the hoodie a nap, I can shoulder the weight of feeling those wonderful shoulders through your shirt.”

“ok, that one might’ve been a bit of a stretch, but you can still joke through whatever the heck’s happening. all the respect in the underground to ya.”

“Let’s see what this does to the respect points, then.” You pull the Metallica shirt off and toss it back to the tornado. It’d gotten pretty sweaty from the busy day, anyway. Now, for the first time, Sans has a look at all your skin from the waist up. It seems like he likes what he sees, as he looks down from your face, to your chest, and then your gut, before a single, huge drop of sweat drops from his skull.

“…oh, whoops. almost forgot to do my part. how selfish.” He pulls his arms out of his hoodie and tosses it towards the tornado, but just misses short. It’s a fairly sad sight, so you hope the hoodie won’t judge.

“I hope you know how cute you look in that lil’ shirt of yours.”

“really? you’re the one saying that? that chest is hotter than the hottest ‘dog i’ve ever dealt.” He’s somehow punning through this, too, but you get hit with another impulse right after. No one could muster a joke through something this strong.

“…can i touch it?” Words are failing you, so you nod your head, and Sans reaches a hand out at your chest. There’s a sort of desperation in his voice you’ve never heard before; this moment must be checking all his boxes off. His cold hand goes perfectly with your growingly warm skin, and you can feel the tension in his fingers keep switching between relaxed and tight.

“heheh, geez, protag, to think this is what i’ve been huggin’ all this time. guess i can’t really do the same.”

“It’s no worry. i’ve ordered my fair share of ribs on the surface, but I’m sure yours are the best delicacy I could ever _feast_ my eyes on.” You aren’t planning on asking to see his yet; you’re not sure if that’d be breaking any monster customs, and he looks perfectly cute as is right now with his shirt. The never-ending joke train will do for now. The glowing on his face admittedly makes it hard to not ask, but you bite your tongue.

“gosh darn it, i’ve taught you too much, and i don’t think i can make ya unlearn it. might have comedy competition on my hands.” He purposely brushes his hand across your chest again to drive the point in, getting you even further flustered.

“W-w-well, what can I say? I’ve wanted to learn from the best joke joint in town.” You grab at his left cheekbone and give it a little tug, watching it somehow extend with your pull. Magic providing amazement once again.

“it’s my first time doin’ this with another dude, and i sure didn’t think it’d be with a human. leave it to you to come in and break that idea to pieces.” Sans keeps running his fingers around your chest before surprising you with a quick tickle to the gut. It gets you laughing and twitching your shoulders a bit, as he stops and takes your reaction in.

“and, uh… i don’t think i wanna do this with anyone else. they couldn’t compare.” His expression becomes more needy, and you find yours doing the same. Your soul does another throb, almost feeling like it could push you forward a bit.

“I don’t want to with anyone else, either. I’ve got my perfect man sitting across from me.” You scooch forward on the mattress and wrap your arms around Sans’ ribs, figuring that asking would be pointless. He does the same to you, and given how gentle his touch is, it sure seems like something he’s wanted, too.

“…screw it. no more holding back. i love you, and i really, really need your cozies right now.”

“I need yours, too, you wonderful boneyard!” Chuckling, Sans gives you a light tackle, sending your back into the mattress. Looking over your reddened face, he plants a smooch on your forehead, then your cheek, and then your mouth, which you immediately return. Despite your focus being on Sans’ incomparable smooch action, you keep your arms in the same hugging grasp as before, and he does the same. Nothing could make you want to let go right now.

“heh, you’re learning fast, bud. you’re my first and only bonefriend, so i guess my class has a hundred percent pass rate.” He can still pun in a spot like this. _Gosh_.

“Hrmrmrmrmmm…” You briefly forget that he’s the only one that can do that. Hopefully, he likes the sweet taste of murmurs. Listening to his wish to not hold anything back, you tightly grip the back of his shirt, feeling his ribs through his shirt on your clenched hands. You want to say something comprehendable back to him for his sweet words, so you pull your mouth back for a brief moment to speak up.

“…And to think this wonderful mouth of yours was waiting so long. I’m so glad to be your… your…” You want to call yourself the key to his mouth’s locked door, but your breathing’s too caught up from the intimacy to get it out. Sans doesn’t seem in the right spot to be listening right now, anyway, and you get right back at it, serenading each other’s ears and mysterious areas where ears would be with the sound of lips and closed teeth smacking.

Your soul acts up more and more each second you’re this close, but it’s not a burning feeling, or anything else that’d make you want to stop. It’s this intoxicating rush that you only want more and more of, so you let it continue to overtake you and give Sans all the affection you can. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more driven to do something immediately, and you can’t remember seeing any time Sans was the same way for anything else, either. Going by his gentle moans and unwavering closeness, he wants this just as much as you do.

The feeling’s not only in your chest anymore. It’s starting to spread with the same sort of feeling a warm drink down your throat goes, only for this, it’s moving from your chest to your arms, all the way down to your fingertips. You take no time to ponder what this new energy is, and rather use it to make your hug with Sans even tighter. He’s surprisingly soft to hold on any given day, and this helps that tenfold. All of this is making your mind race with how this is something you never want to go away.

_“Never let this end, never let this end, never let this end, never let this end…”_

_“never let this end…”_

That was his thought again, too?!?! You weren’t even making conversation, and that happened!

What’s getting to you the most is that every time something changes for you, it seems like the same happens with Sans. Each and every time your grip on his shirt gets tighter, he seems to press into your chest with the same sort of force. Even his joke rate’s slowing down, as all his concentration seems to be on giving you the best time he can. His intimacy, the warm feeling through your body, the smell of ‘dogs on his breath… it’s not something you’d thought you’d experience when you were growing up, but now that you’re here, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

He has to know that. Right now, before anything else, he has to know that. The warmness from your soul isn’t stopping, and while it doesn’t hurt an ounce, you’ve got to let out some of what you’re feeling, or else it could eat away at you. You slowly back your mouth off from the kiss… and he does at the same time, without a word spoken. Of course, not wanting to stray too far from you, he only pulls back a bit, giving you a deep look into his dark eye sockets.

“Sans… I love you so much, hun. I’ll never leave you. I’ll always be here for you by your s-side.” It’s true, no matter what. Sans is who you want to spend each day of your life with, regardless of how long it is.

“love you too, bucko. i’m not going anywhere, i’ve found my bonefriend, and he’s better than any dream could put together. i’ll be your extra skeleton forever.”

“F-forever?”

“yes. forever. as long as the warranty lasts.”

“well, i wanna be here for every… single… day that deal lasts.” In the same way you did on New Years, you smooch up his forehead, and this time, you bring your hands up to the back of his neck. Complete, flawless comfort and pleasure hits both of you.

And that, on this fateful night, is what brings your soul’s energy to its peak.

The energy that had been flowing throughout your body suddenly condenses back to your chest, and starts battling with it, feeling like it’s trying to push out. It succeeds. Your soul starts to pry itself out, leaving no mark in its trace. It’s still enough of a sight for you to be completely wigged out, so you let go of the hug and frantically sit up on the mattress. You’ve got no clue what’s going on, as your soul now floats just in front of you, shaped like a heart and shining its color.

“Sans! What’s happening to me??? Sans…” He sits up from the mattress, too. His soul’s doing the same thing. You can see it slowly push out from Sans’ shirt where the top of his ribcage is, before it lets itself out completely. Like all the souls you’d seen in the library, it’s light grey, and shaped like an upside down heart. If this made any sense, you’d tell him it looks cute, but your mind’s racing too fast to say anything about his looks.

“Sans! Are you okay??”

“y-yeah, but… i’m so confused.” You both stare at the souls, not having a lick of an idea of how to feel. Words completely fail you.

Fortunately, your souls take care of that.

_“Let’s make this a forever thing. Right here, right now.”_

_“ya sure are better at being poetic than me. you’re right, though. let’s get this show rollin’.” _Neither of you are opening your mouths, but your souls are able to communicate. They continue to levitate, before drifting towards each other. The voice from Sans’ soul keeps getting louder the closer the soul gets, before becoming silent. Your souls touch, and your body gets flooded with this deep peace. It’s like every bit of strain that could possibly be on your muscles is lifting itself.

_“…This is right.”_

_“this is right.”_ You can hear Sans’ thoughts just as loudly as yours.

In a spark of thought, it all suddenly makes sense. This is the moment the book was talking about.

The souls continue to cling to each other, emitting a bright white light, before yours does something unfathomable for a human’s; it turns upside down, stopping in the same position that Sans’ is in, while retaining all of its color. Once it’s finished turning, the souls stop clinging to each other, and float back towards their owners. They talk to each other on their own again.

_“there we are. hundreds of guaranteed years sounds pretty darn good to me.”_

_“Same here. It’s a gift I’ll always treasure, and now I can treasure it with you!”_

_“aww, shucks. let’s make this a lil’ easier for ourselves, shall we?”_

_“Don’t have to ask again.”_

_“good, cause i was gonna go back anyway, ya goofball.”_ You can hear yours laughing, before it flies back into your bare chest, gently knocking you back down to the mattress. Sans’ does the same to him, and you can see him falling back as you go down. By instinct, you immediately sit up again and grab his hands to pull him up. He looks a little dazed, but nothing else seems wrong.

“Sans, are you…?”

Something feels very different, and in all the right ways.

The same sort of warm energy that you get from smooching your bonefriend is now emitting through your whole body. Your arms, legs, torso, and face all have this comforting tingling inside. When the souls touched, and yours got flipped, some of Sans’ monster essence must have copied itself into your system. As you think back to the book in the Ruins, you figure this must also mean…

“Sans. The most amazing thing just happened to us. I need to tell you all about it, right now.” He’s not responding to you.

“Sans?” After some more silence, he starts softly chuckling, before it grows louder and louder. He bunches his knees up towards his head, making himself into somewhat of a ball shape.

“heheh, you should become a mechanic, cause it’s like you oiled my whole body. didn’t know my shoulders were tense, but it’s all gone now. tell me what you wanna share. i’m all ears, and no ears.” Even through his pun, there’s a really thankful tone to his voice. It makes it especially easy to dive into everything you’d learned to lead to this.

With absolutely nothing to hold you back now, you tell Sans everything you’d been way too nervous to say before. The nightmare after your date wasn’t the most fun way to start, but it had to be shared for it all to make complete sense. Before going on, you reassure him it didn’t spoil the sushi one bit.

In a wavering voice, you tell him all about the trips to the library, how the research never landed, and that you weren’t going to let it stop you from enjoying your New Year’s festivities to the fullest. When you get to the part where you talk about your trip to the Ruins on your own to check the books there, his mouth begins to quiver a bit. You’ve never seen Sans cry before, and you don’t know how to feel about this possibly being the first time.

“Hey, hun? You okay? I can slow it down, if this is too much.”

“n-no, please, keep going. i’ll explain later.” He waves his hand for you to continue, and while you’re still curious as to what he’s meaning, you go on. From how important it was to you to hear what the book had to share, you’re able to repeat the contents to Sans in near verbatim. The edge of his mouth keeps quivering as you get to the real meat of what it all means.

“…So, Sans, what just happened was that moment the book described. Our souls love each other to every last little piece, and they took action for us, and with what yours copied onto mine, we… we’ve got so many healthy years ahead! Hundreds, I think! I’d gotten so worried I’d leave you with some husk of my former self, but now there’s so much time we’ll have, and so much pressure off our heads… Oh, I still haven’t let you talk, I’m being so selfish. What do you think of all this?” You can hear a sharp breath through his mouth and nose.

“w-well, i, uh… had no idea a human could do that. that book’s old enough for our history classes down here to never bring it up. guess school failed us both on this one lil’ thing.”

“Pffff, that it did.”

“anyways, after we got real close, i started thinking ‘bout that, too. didn’t think anything could save us from that, though, and i wanted to give ya the best life i could, so i started reading t-t-that thing.” He points at his desk, leading your vision to a thick book that says “HOW TO MENTALLY COPE WITH AGING PETS” on the spine, in gold lettering.

“…Pets? I dunno if I can do any good pet sounds, hun.”

“eh, i won’t bark up a storm if you can’t. that ain’t why i got it, though. it’s about how to teach your noggin to keep fresh when your companion gets a lot older, and i wanted to be… ready. if that’s what was gonna happen, i would never want anything to make you feel like you were a burden. you’d be loved all the same. now, though, i… i can… heh…” A tear starts swelling up in his right eye socket.

“Take your t-time, Sans. Only talk whenever you’re ready.” He takes another deep breath and tries to brush the tear away.

“…i can return it to the librarby.” The tear comes back with a vengeance, and this time, it’s too much for him to keep in. It drips down the side of his face, and you bring up your hand to catch it. Once it’s gone, he thanks you with a surprise tight hug that gives the new feeling in your body an extra charge. That’s a feature for hugs you can get used to real easily.

“i can’t believe it, you…! you figured this out!”

“I… I can’t really believe it, either, but it’s true. This isn’t some whack dream of ours.”

“bud, this is… i promise ya, this isn’t gonna be the only good day to come of this. i’ll be the best bonefriend i can be, even if my snoozing around on the couch habits don’t all change.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, bud. Same here, I’ll be the best I can be, and if we couldn’t promise that, I doubt our souls would’ve just put us into a long, long, long invisible contract.”

“eh, means no fine print, anyway. nothing could be finer than you, though.”

“Dawwww… you know what’s real special about the timing of all this?”

“no idea.”

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”

“whoops, my bad. guess we gotta roll it all back and wait a couple hours.”

“Pffff… c’mon, sit on my lap. you shouldn’t have to stretch yourself up like that.” Crossing your legs, you help Sans up onto them, as he continues his hug.

“just a few minutes in, and my soul bond’s already made a new hug position. that musta given your mind some extra keenness, too.”

“Don’t think the book mentioned that, but if that’s what you wanna think, I’ll gladly roll with it.”

“no, i’m serious. i’m so serious that i think you could guess the next thing i’m gonna say. go ahead.” Sans pulls his skull off your shoulder and gives you a look that’s mixed between a grin, and an overcome state from all the emotion that’s happened. You go along with his curiosity, and think of what kinds of things he’d say right now, before it sparks.

“…That you love me?”

“yup. here’s your prize.” He gives your cheek another smooch.

“my turn. lessee here… imma guess that you’re gonna say you love me, too?”

“Perfect score. I love you so, so much, Sans. You’re the best dork I could ever hope to spend my life knowing.”

“same here. i can’t put to words how much i love ya. we’re gonna have some great things ahead, h-h-h…”

“Hun.” Bonefriends help each other out. He goes back to his hug, and you return the favor, joyfully not having to think about your fears anymore. Your bond with Sans prevailed! You and he have nothing but a bright, worriless life to live together forever, with hands to be held, and ‘dogs to be downed…

* * *

* * *

* * *

_ **FIFTY-TWO YEARS LATER** _

**“hey, the show starts in five minutes, ya ding dong.”**

“I know, I know, hun. I’ll be there soon.”

Why you’re talking to a watch is beyond you; you knew all day that that was gonna set off.

Regardless, hearing Sans’ voice pushes you to get to Grillby’s a little faster, so you hit more of a jogging stride as you work your way along the streets of Snowdin. As per usual at the pub, you’ll have some guitar to play alongside Sans’ act, and he was smart enough to bring it with him, so you won’t run and break your chin trying to get home to grab it first.

It was thoughtful of him, because tonight’s a show you especially don’t want to not be a part of. Tomorrow’s your fiftieth wedding anniversary with Sans, and you’re having a simple show together at the pub to unwind before traveling to the surface tomorrow for some river canoeing. Usually, you keep to the Underground for just about any special occasion, but for the big five-o, the part of the river that runs by Mt. Ebott should have an absolutely stunning view of the mountain and trees. October was a great month to agree to marry in.

If you were to show a picture of you and your husband to anyone on the surface, though, they’d have no clue whatsoever that you’d been together that long. With the power of your soul bond allowing love and compassion to tower over anything else, neither your appearance or Sans’ has changed a bit since that remarkable night… well, except for one tiny thing. For some reason that neither of you can figure out, the direction your hair parts in has swapped the other way over time. Sans lovingly calls it your ‘better side’, and given that you haven’t had a long stretch of bad worries for over half a century, you can’t blame him.

There’ll be more time for reminiscing after the show, though. If you let your thoughts drift off too much, you might miss Sans’ act, and that could be what sets those worries off, after all this time. Fortunately, when you get to Grillby’s, he’s not on the little stage yet, and your guitar is neatly perched to the side of it. Come to think of it, though, you don’t see Sans in the pub at all. As you make your way to your reserved table next to the stage, you can’t help but smile, looking at the couple confused faces in the crowd that stick out like a sore thumb against the others that aren’t reacting at all. It’s easy to tell who isn’t familiar with Sans’ ‘entrance’.

A few seconds later, they certainly do, because Sans is suddenly on the stage after a flash of blue light. It never gets old, and you’re honored to be the cause of the gold ring that immediately glistens from the light to his left.

“heya. thanks for showin’ up tonight, everyone. sorry if i blinded any guests, don’t wanna blind your thoughts of town.” As always, the crowd is already laughing. His joke bank isn’t running out of fun-ds anytime soon.

You and the frequent patrons at the pub are really grateful that Sans still does shows here. Ever since he opened for Metallica, much larger venues across the Underground have asked him to come perform, and some surface locations have even wanted to be graced with his voice. (With how much Metallica meant to your all-important night, you and Sans made sure to make it to their final show, and even managed to talk to them personally. You’d agreed that they needed to know what their show did, before bringing their careers to a close). As long as your work permits, you make sure to get to all of his shows you can, but when he’s on the surface, you’re there, no matter what. No one’s gonna mess with your husband anytime soon.

Sans being Sans, his attire hasn’t changed one bit since you met. He tells you and anyone else that asks that for him to be his best on stage, he’s gotta have the same level of comfort as if he’s lazing around in one of his homes. That’s homes in plural now; with the money from your landed dream job, and the big bucks that Sans’ comedy work pays, you’ve got residencies scattered all across the Underground for whatever setting you two are feeling the most into. The one and only original home in Snowdin is still your number one, though. You and Sans stay there more than any other place throughout the year, enjoying the company of your husband and next best friend each and every minute you’re there.

Darn, you’re letting yourself drift off in thought too much again. Anniversaries always do this to you, though, so it’s probably natural. Shaking your head, you turn your attention back to Sans’ comedy. He’s knocking the house down with his jokes as usual, getting laughs out of everyone, including Fuku, who’s heading the bar. Grillby has gotten too old by now to run the pub every day, so the fire monster that’d been your waitress at Bhodeck now operates the place alongside him. The ambience is fortunately kept the same when she’s around as when the older owner’s around.

“glad to see smiles on everyone’s faces. you’re not nearly as static as my tv was last week. boy, was that some fuzzy business.” You’re gonna be the subject of one of his joke stories again! No matter how many times he does this, your heart still flutters up.

“so, last saturday, i was practicing my couch laying while watching tv with my husbone and my brother. in the middle of a blips n chitz ad, though, the signal went haywire, and the screen turned into the endless war of the white dots.” **Husbone**. It will never not be music to your ears.

“it was a real shame, a rick ‘n morty arcade sounds like such a fun place to go to. there’s the undernet, but i woulda had to stop my couch practice, and i’ve got some serious competition to train for.” It may seem like joking, but Sans has gotten incredibly aware of which lazing around positions feel the most relaxing. It’s an underrated art.

“we couldn’t let those little white dots battle each other to death forever, so my brother and husbone got up to check it out to see what the problemo was. after some intense observing for a whole five seconds, they saw that a plug was loose in the back. no biggie, they’d just hafta lift it to get it back in.” Given how this just happened a few days ago, your ears are very familiar with what came next, and you can feel a bit of the pain come back to them already.

“well, when my bro lifted it up, and my man, protag, twisted the cable back in, it blasted a commercial ‘bout a brand new dish soap at full speed. it was so loud that the librarby probably lost a bookshelf or two from the earthquake it caused.” Since you’ve got your own table, and no food on it, you figure you may as well do your part to make Sans’ joke the best you can be. Grabbing the bottom of it and managing to avoid getting your fingers in any gum, you pick it up and lightly pound it on the ground, to make it seem like the earthquake came back for round two. The crowd deals out a hearty laugh together, and Sans notices your help and deals out some finger guns in your direction.

“man of the hour down there in the front row, helping me getcha all terrified by faux-earthquakes. honored to have the extra hand. anyhoo, when that soap ad blasted on, their faces sure looked far from calm. my brother’s eyes seemed more like marshmallows than anything else, and protag’s face looked like he just stubbed his toe the worst way possible. i woulda been worried, but then i realized the best coincidence.” He pulls a Band-aid out of his hoodie.

“i just so happened to have this band-aid on me, despite not having an inch of skin on me. guess it pays to prepared when you live with a sack of skin by your side. pulled myself off of couch practice, held it up in front o’ their faces, and told them that i’m ready to clean up the damage they got from hearing too much of a cleaning ad.” He really did do that, too. Whether it be a whoopee-cushion, a bottle of a spice, a popsicle, or a Band-aid, he always has the right prop at the ready.

“it really did clean up their looks, too. my brother looked all angry, and my husbone somehow started blushing. guess he’s got a weird thing for band-aids on his skin, or something. i won’t judge.”

_That_ wasn’t something you were expecting, and it gets you laughing even harder than the rest of the crowd. Getting a personal story used for his comedy is one thing, but hearing your married man share some friendly pokes in front of a whole crowd makes it even better.

He continues on with his show, having the crowd completely under his control the whole time. Everyone’s so into it that you don’t even realize it’s about to seep into your guitar time, until he takes a look at his own watch under his sleeve. You’d gotten it for him for your tenth anniversary long ago; it’s made of solid gold. Tomorrow’s the anniversary for the watch, too, so you’ll have to see if there’s any poppers laying around the house for you to pop to celebrate that.

“oh, whoops, almost ran past my time. y’all have heard me string enough jokes together, time for the one and only protag to play his own strings. your ears won’t be mad at you at all. take it away, hun.” He hops off the stage as the crowd happily applauds his comedy, and you immediately greet him with a smooch on the forehead. No matter how used you’ve gotten to the warm feeling of magic in your body, you live up every second of the extra rush that gives.

“Top notch, as always.”

“glad it didn’t disappoint. i’m gonna give nothing but my best when tomorrow’s a day i get to celebrate you.”

“_Us_, Sans. We get to celebrate _us_.” Getting a smooch on your own forehead from him, your knees are a little wobbly as you walk up to the stool where the guitar is, but you manage to sit down without knocking anything over.

Since you’ve had over half a century by now to work more on any hobbies you’ve had interest in, you’ve adapted to a lot more styles for your guitar playing, for whatever suits your setting best. Your hands sort of control themselves when you hit the right flow, which makes taking in the ambience of wherever you’re playing a lot easier.

You’re not the center of attention during your playing, like Sans was with his performance, so you keep your music to a lighter tone. Some songs have lyrics, while others are just melodies you’ve picked up over the years. There’s still applause each time you finish a song, though, and not just from Sans. With how amazing the burg is here, you appreciate that people take their hands away from holding onto them to some clapping.

When you finish your last song, you stand up from the stool and watch a small field of happy faces applauding you for your ability. Some of Sans’ longtime pub buddies stand by the left wall and start chanting “Speech!”, and you don’t see any reason to not oblige.

“Thank you all for being here tonight, glad me strumming this wooden thing makes people happy. Gotta share my thanks for you supporting Sans, too, no one does it better than he does. Tomorrow, we’ll have been married fifty years, and there’s nowhere I’d rather call our home turf than this town and restaurant right here.” The pub buddies sure agree, and start whistling towards the two of you. Given how different each of their mouths are, them having the ability to whistle is a feat in itself. You return to the little table where Sans is sitting where you did earlier, while some of the crowd begins to trail out. Others haven’t finished burging yet.

“so, how’d your work work out today?”

“Went great! Lots of people knew why I’ve got the day off tomorrow. They wanted to know all about our river trip, and how you're doing. Even the new people brought it up, they must be big Sans fans, after how you catered our team party a couple weeks ago.”

“hey, what can i say? when ya have a good ‘dog, you just so happen to feel like you’re in debt to the maker forever. sounds like a fair trade to me.”

“Without a doubt. How’d my hun’s day go?” You grab at his hand, and he returns the favor, feeling over your ring. The two of you do this just about every time you sit down together, so it’s second nature.

“pretty papyrus.”

“Your brother’s an adjective now?”

“yup. spent most of it helpin’ him get ready for his big night. he was still getting his final prep done when i left, you’ll get to see him when i get home. i’m on taxi duty.”

“He’s spent that long on his preparing?”

“either that, or he decided halfway there’s a scent he’s gotta have. you know him, he wants every bit of this to be perfect.” You’re glad to hear more about what’s going on with Papyrus’ preparation, given how important tonight is. He’s got a big, fancy date in New Home!

It’s not that Papyrus had tried and failed to get into a relationship in the years since you’d met him; with his level of charm and motivation, he certainly would’ve been able to find a special someone a long time ago. He’s simply been so invested in his work that he hadn’t had the time to give the commitment to someone that he feels a loving companion would deserve. Papyrus’ personal training has developed into its own business, of which he’s the owner and lead trainer of. He has employees, both on the surface and in the Underground, that teach clients the same sorts of techniques that he’s created. They have to go through routines overseen by the head skeleton himself to see if they’re cut out for the job. It’s not just the movements in Papyrus’ routines that have to be mastered, but the right, genuine level of energy as well.

Ironically, though, the business that kept Papyrus from looking for a special someone is what brought one right to him. His business got a client named Jaiden, a trans-genderqueer human undergoing hormone therapy. The estrogen program that they’ve been taking has worked wonders to make them more comfortable with themselves, but a drawback of it is the reduction of muscle it causes. Papyrus heard about their situation, and knew they deserved the best possible work they could receive, so he took it upon himself to train Jaiden personally.

They took regular trips to Snowdin, with the help of Sans serving as skeleton-taxi, and Papyrus worked with them to create a program that’d get back all the muscle they’d wanted to keep, without “TURNING THEM INTO A BRICK”, as he put it. Together, they got a lot accomplished, and the more Papyrus learned about the wonderful person they are, the more he wanted to provide to them. Fortunately, since Jaiden doesn’t fall under the boy or girl radars, they could be permitted into Papyrus’ room, without conflicting with any of the rules of the ‘NO BOYS AND NO GIRLS’ sign on his door.

It was only a matter of time when Papyrus saw how much Jaiden loved his room’s pirate themes and figure collection that his heart would be gladly taken.

Once the nerding-it-out barrier was broken, the two of them began to hit it off brilliantly. He’d invite them to more and more training sessions at the house, and while they would make sure to do at least some work each time, most of the trips became a lot more focused around the shows his figures, especially the red-cape heroes, came from. With their obscure interests lining up as well as they did, they were willing to do things like practicing the hugs that the characters in said shows would do. The more they got into doing that, the more you’d see it even happening outside of his room, and you knew the two had something special going on. Recently, Jaiden invited him to a late dinner at this fancy steak place in New Home, and the dress code and formality of the meal has seemed right up his alley. You’re wishing nothing but the best for him tonight.

“we should probably get back, he could wanna leave any minute now. i know the smell of burg is always satisfying, but it’ll be here later. whatever the heck my brother puts on may never greet your nose again, if he gets bored of it.”

“Good point. Let’s go see how spiffy that tie of his is.” You each wave to Fuku as thanks for letting you joke and strum the place up for the night, and leave the pub hand in hand. Whenever the two of you are walking somewhere together, unless someone has some all-important groceries to carry, your hands not coming together is unthinkable. Taking the walk home that’s so familiar that you could probably sleepwalk your way through it, you step up to the porch in the cold, crisp breeze, and pull out your own key to open the door.

“it’s already unlocked, ya silly goose.”

“Oh, I… I knew that already. The door just wanted to snack on a key, is all.”

“good enough for me.” Satisfying the key’s ‘hunger’, you open the door, and can immediately hear some frantic steps coming from upstairs. Papyrus sure is home still, all right. On the table, Rocko is chilling with some chocolate sprinkles, while sharing them with their significant other, Brick Number 8394. On the one and only time Sans felt a strange motivation to take Rocko for a walk, you, him, and Papyrus led the pet rock to the Ruins, and saw the brick laying on its own. Rocko stopped by it, they seemed to have some sort of silent, inantimate object conversation, and the brick started following the group. No one questioned it, and you threw the two of them a little wedding the next day. That sudden push for a walk was meant to be.

Your rock and brick marriage memories are interrupted, though, by the sound of the door to Papyrus’ room slamming open. He’s decked out from head to toe in a very stylish grey suit, with shoes that’ve been polished from toe to heel. His ruby red tie with black diamonds rounds out the picture.

“HELLO, YOU TWO! I’M JUST ABOUT READY TO LEAVE! DOES MY HAIR ALL LOOK IN ORDER?”

“not a single strand’s outta place, bro.”

“PHEW! HELLO, PROTAG, SORRY I COULDN’T ATTEND YOUR PLAYING! I’M SURE YOU HAD THE WHOLE PLACE CLAPPING.”

“he sure did.” Sans pinches at your cheek, bringing a dash of magic warmth to your already blushed up face.

“I did my best. Wasn’t gonna do anything less for anniversary day with this wonderful brother of yours.” You return the favor and pinch his cheek bone back.

“heheh, ‘nough about us, though. tonight’s your night, and we’re both rooting for ya.”

“Yep, rooting for ya harder than the roots on that old tree down the road that refuses to die.”

“BUT THOSE ROOTS ARE OLD, AND MUST BE GETTING ALL HOLLOW INSIDE.”

“alas, protag. my brother’s super smart thinking’s destroyed your wits.”

“I admit defeat.” You make a little bow, before taking advantage of Papyrus being distracted by his pride in himself. You wrap your arms around his ribs in a tight hug, and Sans comes up to do the same. No flapping cape to suffocate anyone this time.

“You’re gonna knock it out of the park tonight. Jaiden’s got an amazing person to eat, laugh, and nerd out the night away with.”

“PLEASE SAY THEIR NAME AGAIN.”

“ok. ‘jaiden’.”

“PERFECT. HEARING SOMEONE ELSE SAY THEIR LOVELY NAME IS ALL I NEEDED.” You can’t see Papyrus’ face from where you’re hugging him, but you’re sure it’s lit up pink right now; well, especially if the effect from Mettaton’s good luck card to him is still working.

“THIS IS INCREDIBLY NICE OF YOU TWO, BUT I HAVE TO GET GOING. I WENT OVER MY OLD DATING MANUAL AGAIN, AND LEAVING SOMEONE LATE FOR THE FIRST DATE SPELLS OUT ‘BAD’. IN PLENTY OF LANGUAGES, TOO.”

“No worries at all!” You back off from the hug. “You’ve got skin to hug tonight that isn’t mine, and I’m not gonna keep you from that. Besides, I’ve heard the taxi driver doesn’t like being held up.”

“hey, don’t go slandering me. my three whole customers each give me five star reviews.” His timeless wink always melts your heart.

“SANS, DON’T MAKE ME CONSIDER DOCKING A STAR TONIGHT! YOUR WORDPLAY IS ALWAYS EXCELLENT, BUT WE HAVE TO GO NOW!”

“hey, hey, bro. don’t worry. i can tell you’re nervous about tonight, but it’s all gonna be a-ok. be that same papyrus that makes jaiden smile whenever they visit, and tonight’ll be perfect.”

“…YOU’RE RIGHT. I’LL STAY RELAXED. IT’S WHAT THEY DESERVE.” Sans takes his brother’s hands, preparing to zip through time and space to bring him to the restaurant.

“i’ll be back in a minute, hun. try not to let the couch eat your ring.”

“Don’t worry, no surprise snacking tonight! Well, actually, there is one snack in the room right now.”

“THERE IS?”

“Yep. You! And that’s exactly what Jaiden’s gonna think of you tonight.”

“N-NYEH HEH… THANK YOU, PROTAG. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY EVE.” Sans and Papyrus disappear in the older brother’s blue flash, bringing the room back to silence. You sit down on the couch, listening to Sans’ request to not let the piece of furniture gobble it up.

_Fifty years…_ It’s hard to fathom, as you rub your fingers over the texture of the black stone ring, which holds a blue gemstone from Waterfall in the middle. It hasn’t been uncomfortable for a single moment in all the years it’s been yours.

_Fifty years since him and I made it official… man. I am so, so lucky…_ As you think that, you remind yourself of how Sans has told you to not sell yourself short. He’s told you plenty of times that he’s so lucky to have you in his life; it’s always been a two way street, and it’ll always be that way.

“sure is a good one, ain’t it?”

“What in the-” Sans silently appeared behind you. No matter how many times he surprises you like this, you end up thinking your heart’s gonna stop, so you give him a gentle pillow toss to the head in return. Not having any nerve endings, he lets it bounce right off his face, and it lands in your hands again.

“heheh, sorry. you were looking too darn cute, i couldn’t **not** do that.”

“Apology accepted.” You turn around on the couch and draw him in for a kiss. You’d been waiting all day to give him one to the mouth like this. Before you can go on for too long, though, you think to ask him about Papyrus.

“So, how’d he look when you left him?”

“super confident. with a strut like the one he had walking into the place, every table’s gonna wanna get a look at him. me saying jaiden’s name a good twenty times mighta helped a bit.”

“I’m sure it did, I’ve seen how much that name is music to his ears. I’m so proud of him, to be pursuing something like this without slowing his work down at all.”

“me, too. i knew he’d find the right someone someday. he may have a real unique way of approaching a lot of things, but when you spend hours studying a book to know what’ll make the other person’s night top notch, that other lad’s got someone amazing on their hands.”

“Hands… speaking of hands, are you gonna have to go there again later to grab his and take him back?”

“nah. he wants to run his way back here. said a post-date exercise helps cool the energies that build up from it.”

“A run all the way from New Home to here, just for a relaxing exercise… I’ve known him so long, and that still gets to me.” Thinking of Sans zipping to and from New Home makes an excuse to do something else slip into your mind.

“Hey, aren’t you feeling pretty tired? You performed a show, had dinner, and went to and from the other end of the Underground. That must’ve taken a lot of energy out of you.”

“hasn’t, actually. guess bringing my brother to his date was a bit of inspiration to not go for a snooze.”

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, hun. You look so worn out.” He doesn’t actually look worn out at all, but this is too perfect to pass up.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, i’m fine. no problemos under this hoodie, aside from probably a stain or two.”

“Welp, if you’re not gonna realize that, I guess you need a hand.” Standing up from the couch and jumping over it, you scoop Sans up from under his knees.

“There we go! I think you need a nice ride to our bed, clearly, you don’t have the energy to go yourself.”

“w-well then, look who’s feeling like a bold taxi driver tonight. i’m taking some credit, whether ya like it or not.” You both laugh, and share another kiss. This one’s longer than the last, and Sans even brings his hands up to your cheeks to drive the point in more. He’s only a skull shorter than you, so it’s not like carrying a toy around, making his effort to pull his head up and go to smooch city with you all the more appreciated. The two of you trade some gentle moans, before managing to slow yourselves down. Standing straight up doesn’t seem like the best position to get carried away in, anyway.

“…heh, alright, you’re the driver. lead the way.” Taking him up the steps, you walk to your room and give the door a gentle kick open. Aside from some extra dressers to hold your clothes, it’s more or less exactly the same as it was the first time you came in here to help him long ago. You’ve always agreed with his at ease lifestyle, so a room that feels like him is what feels like you, too. The only other noticeable difference is the bed. A bedframe’s better for a human’s back than just a mattress on the ground, so the two of you easily agreed to get one to put the mattress on. One of the reasons Sans hadn’t gotten one before is his height didn’t make jumping up onto a bedframe the most comfortable, but with you sleeping with him each and every night, lifting him up gets rid of that issue completely.

Oh, and Lars’ drum stick is there, too. You framed it. It’s the least you could do for something that means so much, both for the history, and how it landed right in Sans’ eye socket.

“See? You’re eyeing down our bed already. You totally got your gears slow after all that movement.”

“maybe you’re right. don’t wanna pass out on the canoe, anyway. my weight would totally make the boat sink.” Sharing more priceless laughter, you set him on his feet and agree to get into your sleep attire without a single word. Sleep attire, easily enough, consists of nothing but shorts. You can’t help but take a peek back at Sans when he’s pulling his hoodie and shirt off, and he happens to look back at you at the same time.

“darn. you stole my idea.”

“Well, only cause my incredibly cute husbone was too hard to resist.” Turning back around and throwing your shirt and socks to the floor, you’re finally ready. Instead of grabbing Sans from under his knees this time, though, you take him in a bear hug, and jump onto the bed. There were a couple tragedies the first times you tried this, but it’s as easy as brushing your teeth now.

“…crap.”

“Crap?”

“you won. i totally don’t wanna get up from this.”

“Well, you don’t have to, hun. We can lay here all night and rest up for our trip tomorrow, and I won’t gloat about my victory at all.”

“good, cause i woulda totally bragged about it all night long.” His smile grows, as he cups his left hand over your cheek. The coolness of his ring feels lovely against the warmth of your skin.

“to think i’ve been able to call this mug my husbone for half a century. all the other dudes it coulda gone after, and it’s _mine_.”

“I can say the same thing to you, Sans. Of all the guys you could’ve asked to carry your clearly heavy frame around, I’m the one.”

“and ya know what the best part is?”

“What, hun?”

“we’re just gettin’ started.” Sans takes your lips again, and rather than the laughs that’d engulfed your kisses earlier, this one feels like the physical embodiment of a deep, deep thank you. His ribs press up with your chest, and no matter how many times Sans tells you that you couldn’t damage his body if you tried, you can’t help but stay extra gentle holding him. That’s not to say he’s slipping away anytime soon; you’ve got your fingers locked behind Sans, keeping him right in place as you return smooches with him. You get to watch your comedy superstar use his mouth up on stage, and now, you have the joy of feeling it on a personal level. The feeling becomes too much for you to stay laying on your back, so you turn onto your right side instead, taking in every drop of Sans’ love and compassion that’s getting shared with you. It makes a thought you can’t ignore spring up to mind, and you have to pull out of the smooching to say it.

“…Sans?”

“…yeah, protag?”

“Remember that night we first met, and I saw you perform at the hotel?”

“’course i do.”

“…Eheh, and how my choices were between going out, or having a cup of noodles that night? Imagine how different this’d all be if I chose those noodles instead.”

“that’d be the most kissed cup of noodles in world history.”

“Oh, come on, you.”

“heh, just kiddin’. i get whatcha mean. fate’s real weird like that. you never know when a tiny lil’ choice like that is gonna be what changes everything after. it ain’t just dumb luck, though. we were… were…”

It hits him like a lightning bolt. Tears start streaming out of Sans’ eye sockets. You can probably count on your fingers the amount of times you’ve seen him do this in your whole marriage.

“…Sans, take all the time that you need.” He keeps smiling, but cries the tears into your shoulder. You don’t move a muscle, letting yourself be however much of a blanket he needs.

“…we’re meant for each other. i stayed here, and you came here. the t-two things no one would expect us to do. it’s l-like the first time your eyes and my eye sockets saw each other, we knew right away we’d be b-buds forever, and now we’ve been married all this time…”

Your flood streams start opening, too. The tears drip onto his shoulder, and fall through the bones onto the mattress. On any other day, you’d find that to be the funniest thing, but you’re too caught up in the emotions right now.

“T-that’s what’s so beautiful about this, Sans. We never have to worry about that past being different. W-w-we’re here, together. Fate planned for us to meet, but then it was all in our hands, a-a-and…” You have to take a pause to rub the tears away.

“…And we did it. **We** did it. And it’s never gonna end, either. Our searching’s been done for such a long time, and it’ll never start again. I-I-I’m yours, forever.”

Sans is completely bawling. You’re completely bawling, too. You wouldn’t change it for a second.

“oh, s-s-s-stars… didn’t think a-anniversary eve would hit me this hard. i’m always yours, protag. yesterday, today, tomorrow, and anything-else-day.”

“I love you.”

“i love **you**.” With tear-filled faces, you cling onto each other tight, letting your head and Sans’ skull sink deep into the pillow. Maybe you’d drift off in a few minutes, maybe you wouldn’t. You don’t care, and he doesn’t, either. All that matters in the world is that you and Sans are in each other’s arms, with fifty years of marriage behind you, and so, so many more yet to come. This is what you and your souls have wanted, and it’s exactly what you’ve gotten, in each other’s dorky, easy-living forms.

Peace, true happiness, boundless love and compassion, and a seemingly limitless life ahead… all granted to you, by nothing less than a skeleton’s connection.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the story… but not the times that you and Sans have ahead! While the main story may be finished, the Sans/Dude content here is far from over. Now that your soul bond with Sans has been established, there will be shorter stories coming! These will span all across your time as both bonefriends and husbones together, covering all sorts of things done, and time spent together. They’ll cover the whole spectrum of ratings, so whatever your content level preferences are, there’ll be stories for it. Keep in touch with my account here to see when these come up, I’m really looking forward to getting into sharing more of this pairing!
> 
> I have some very big thanks that I want to give for this story coming together. To AO3 user Sim_Human, I want to share tremendous thanks for motivating me to go all in with my creativity for the story, for letting me springboard ideas, and helping me edit chapters to get them the cleanest they can be. Your time and effort towards my story means a skele-ton, buddy. <3  
A lovely surprise I got from AO3 user guro_kuro was my first piece of fan art! I can’t stress enough how amazing the fanart is that you made for me. It was a complete surprise to hear that you were making it, and your finished product is one that I continue to enjoy very, very much.
> 
> As my last thanks, I want to share my appreciation to every person that read, left Kudos, or commented on my story, both throughout the writing process, and after. Every time I see one of those numbers go up, I smile, knowing how this piece of work of mine is reaching new people.
> 
> To conclude, I’d like to share how great of an experience it’s been writing a male reader story for Undertale. As far as I know, this is the the only completed long story for an Undertale character/Male Reader bond. It was really surprising to me in my searching that no other stories in the field have been made. Putting this together was an experience I absolutely loved, since I had the chance to provide something I’d want to read that I couldn’t find elsewhere. If anyone else is considering making /male content, I completely recommend going for it. Writing this has been a wonderful experience, and if you decide to make one, too, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of happy feedback from people that’re very thankful to get to read it. If anyone wants to reach out to me about my writing, your own writing, or just adorkable skeleton stuff, my Discord tag’s ComicalFont#1298.
> 
> With all that said, I wish you a great rest of your day, ask if you can continue to share this work around anywhere you can, and hope to see you here for the male reader works that are yet to come! Your journeys with Sans are only beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a Kudos, comment, and share this story around if you enjoyed! Every bit of promotion it can get helps.


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